Minstrel

Oh, dearest love, I cannot come

To see you off today.

And vested in sweet minstrel tone,

The life I live is shy.

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Shy away from voyager’s side,

From whispers that tell me

To hark aloud when moment comes,

Before your destiny

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Is riven from controlling force –

Is held by stranger’s hand –

The territory I can foretell

Is linked unto the land

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Of hope and thought and charity –

The minstrel I once knew,

Before he strolled both near and far

With divinity that grew

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Between the minstrel and his star

In a life, unknowingly

Naive. Ignorance being bliss –

A life so tellingly

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Eventful, prestigious with him there –

Enclosed by ups and downs.

Envelop, oh sweet minstrel –

In your noble surrounds.

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Yet who’s to say what’s noble?

Who’s to say which balladeer can sing?

May someone who has loved before

Ne’er to love again?

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May the quiet whisper

Of the minstrel in the night

Wake up the next morning

To his lover’s pure sight.

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The pristine hue of azure seas

Clear – eternally blue sky.

Though vested in sweet minstrel tone –

Too reticent, too shy.