The Bard Eternal

The eyes through which he looks upon me
They shine a brilliant Blue

And just behind them a living poem
An eternal song, a story always true

The eyes of the bard who comes to us throughout time
Time and time again

A thief who stole fire from the heavens
To warm the hearts of man
Who trapped his lover in a pen

A fire burning ever bright
A written word by candle light

A book to those who have sight
An eagle taking flight

A textbook to his teachers
A sheild and a sword in a fight

A cauldron stirred
And a word spoken in rite

When he comes to me
He bares "my lady" on his back

Polished and perfect
Not a string giving slack

And when his song rings out
Men of granite weep

A lullaby in his voice
Could sing a storm to sleep

The very earth shook with sorrow
Thunder rolled each time his body breathed its last

The song of life at his pire
Can be heard, even now, from many years gone past

He comes to me as the Horned one
In the body, mind and spirit of the bard out of time

He comes to me with a song, with a smile
and with a spoken rhyme

Each time the call awakes him
For a moment the world is quiet and still

For every living thing recalls the masters voice
And longs for all that it can make them feel

And I stand here, for the moment
As a women, nothing more

Yet to the eyes of the bard eternal
I am a muse, a Goddess and beautiful to my core