A Time for Tales
BY MARISSA MOSES
Fortune foretold a time when she would sing
a song of rhyme and rhythm without compare.
But then there came the sheets of ice and rain
which tormented the girl into twirling despair.
There once was a boy who fortune would tell
the secrets of time and unto him bestow
a great gift embossed in silvery white.
A great shift in the ebb and the flow he would sow.
Together they would play a part in charming
the thing they knew not how to find.
Together they would set apart the rhymes
and rhythms of time's best pieces, of times best mines.
Sometimes it goes flat.
And then there's nothing to continue the story
for the story is old and already told
and how well we know where the kindling lies.
For whenever there is a time we need a thing
to tell us lore and glories gone by
there is a yearning in us to go looking
for dragons and tidings of those who have lived afore.
But this is not the time of fairytales
though the faire folk still be in the woods round the bend.
You'll find that you listen for days that are past
only to find those same days are abound.
So to this be the wiser, for wisdom knows only fools
To be ever a stone's throw from your home's gate
is to be...
figure the rest out yourself.
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