Conclusion of the Hero's Quest: chapters 7-9

a writing by Dwayne Leon Rankin

*Chapter Seven*
The Final Test; Of Questions and Doubts

Within those shadows, doubts ensued;
From deep within his darkened mind.
And of those doubts his thoughts then brood;
And so he found himself as blind.

Those whom he’d helped along the way,
Returned to him with sorrows wrought.
His memories were all found fey;
Within the Dark, he now was caught.

Within the net of deep despair;
Disturbed, in pain and so depressed.
Against him then; they then did war;
Deep down within his sorrowed breast.

Suddenly he felt as if he was being watched. He looked around trying to peer through the wall of obscurity that was surrounding him. Yes, that is what it felt like; not like he was hemmed in by any lack of light; though it was true that he was in such a place; but it was more than just that. Then as he was looked out trying to conquer this invisible wall, he noticed a movement just ahead of him a short ways. He looked at it, staring intently trying to make out who or what it was until finally it came into focus. In surprise he found himself back on the road where he’d rescues the young maiden. And there she was standing in front of him. She had a terrible scowl on her face as if she was angered at something.

“Why did you leave me alone on that road? You knew of the danger that I’d just faced. Yes, you helped me but I find myself questioning just why. Did you enjoy inflicting that punishment on that young boy?” She looked at him accusingly as if he’d done some terrible deed.
“What do you mean? Did I enjoy swatting his bottom? No, but he needed to learn a lesson.”
“And you were just the one to do it weren’t you?” She then looked at him and gave a start. “The wonderful piece of cloth that I gave you, what have you done with it? It’s gone isn’t it; and you didn’t even try to use it for the purpose I had given it to you for. Why didn’t you use it?”

The Hero looked at her and recalled thinking this exact same thing when he had first entered into the darkness. He shook his head and in a sad voice answered her saying “It was too precious to waste on something when I could use something less valuable that would suffice at that time?”
“Really...? Do you really expect me to believe that? You had several chances to use it to your benefit; but you chose not to.” She then started weeping at the loss of her most prized scarf.

“So where is it now? Do you even have it on you?” She asked, then without waiting for a reply, she answered it herself saying “No of course not; it is quite apparent that you cannot have it on you.”
He then remembered his state and then turning red in the face he stammered “The flames; they were so hot; the heat so torrid that as I was crossing the Lake of Lava that all my clothes were consumed by the flames. I had placed the kerchief where I thought it would remain safe and unspoiled by the filth that I had to travel through, having placed it within the sleeve of my jersey.”
“Yes, you just had to show your bravery didn’t you by standing in where you wouldn’t be shielded by the Boat. So brave and yet so foolish you are.”

He started to tremble then as he stood there listening to her rebukes knowing that his thoughts had run along the same line just a few hours before. All he could do was say “No, no, you just don’t understand...” as he shook his head trying to negate those thoughts from taking hold once more inside of him. He looked to where she was standing and found to his dismay that she was no longer there. Back, he was, once again locked in the Darkness; but this time with those thoughts and doubts running through and through his mind.

He stumbled along for a few more yards before he was once more confronted by an incident from his journeys. But this time it was the old farmer and his young daughter. They were standing there before their burned out barn looking in dismay wondering what they would do. The Farmer then turned to him and asked “Why would you not stay to help us? I was too old and she too young and so neither of us were sure of how to proceed.”

He looked upon their stricken visage and bowed his head low in shame. “I’m not sure what my thinking was” he stammered out. “I thought that is you both seemed so sure of yourselves; and I did rescue your animals did I?” he finally asked in a desperate attempt to shift any blame away from himself. The young girl then looked at him accusingly and said “And what of the beautiful robe that we gave to you for that deed? Did you lose it?” The look on her face was one of outrage and shock at his appearance; but he was almost expecting that by this time. There wasn’t anything that he could do about it though, so he just stood there trying to cover himself up as much as possible with his hands and his staff.
“The robe... why do you not wear the robe then?”
“I don’t know where the robe is; or any of my things. I had been wearing it as I stumbled through the icy cold until I collapsed at the doorway of a small shelter I’d finally come across. But then, when I awoke, all my possessions were gone; all except for this staff.” The farmer looked at him in disgust and said “Yes, but I see that your staff is still in your possession; how convenient for you.”
“You don’t understand; I was in great need as I was left to wander through a tunnel of darkness. I could never have made it without my staff.”
“And the robe; you considered it then of no value?” They then both looked at him in sorrow and disappointment then slowly they faded away. Once again he was left shaking his head in disgrace and embarrassment all the while, trying to explain; but how could he explain not staying to help them to rebuild? He couldn’t, any more than he could explain why he did not do as he should have stayed and helped the young maiden. He feared now that something had happened to her; and to the farmer and his young daughter as well and he was profoundly shocked and disillusioned with himself as any hero. How could he have ever thought himself to be such a person as that? He couldn’t and so once more he staggered down that dark lonely path into what he saw as an abysmal obscurity which left him now filled with misery.

Again, it wasn’t far before he found himself facing that old man still sitting in the snow. He looked to be half dead as he sat there. The blanket was gone and his feet were bare once more.
“Sir, what happened to your blanket and your stockings?” the Hero shouted out in shock and dismay. The old man looked up at him and said “Oh, it’s you again. Why did you leave me out here in the cold?”
“But sir, you said that you preferred to stay there until it was evening when you’d go in and then in the comparable warmth, you’d sleep. But what happened to the blanket I gave you; and the stockings?”
“What do you think happened to them? While I was sitting here wrapped inside that warm blanket with my feet comfortably dry, I became so relaxed that I fell asleep; then I woke up to find myself being robbed. By the time I was able to get inside I was wet and miserable and so found myself getting sick. You should have insisted that I go inside. I would have if you’d have stayed with me for a small time to make sure that I was ok. Why didn’t you do that?”

The Hero looked at him appalled at the state the old man was in and knew beyond a doubt that he should have stayed. Once again he was reminded of these very thoughts that had crossed his mind as he had walked into the darkness. He found himself trembling in regret as he tried to run away seeking to hide his embarrassment and humiliation. “No more; please no more; I’m not worthy. Please just help me to find my way out so that I can go and make amends. “

Then quite unexpectedly he saw an image of the strange old man standing in front of him. He was wearing the same robe that he’d worn when he’d sent him out on his journey of self-discovery. Oh, he’d discovered himself alright; a pathetic useless charlatan who only fancied himself a hero.

The Old Man stood there in silence next to another who also stood there. He looked at that person as saw that she was the Lady from the gate. She it was that spoke to him then saying “Why do you doubt yourself my Hero?”
“Don’t call me that for I am no hero. Everything I did; everything I tried to do had come to naught.”
“But why do you say that Sir? You have not failed; not yet anyway” she said with a smile.
“But everyone I sought to help, I left them there alone to fend for themselves. I should have walked the young maiden to safety; I should have stayed behind and helped the farmer rebuilt his barn; And... And the old man; instead I just left his there in the cold and he almost died. I know for I saw them; back there in the Dark. They came to me and told me all these things.”
The Old man looked at him and said “Those visions, where do you suppose they came from?
Did you not have those very same doubts within your mind as you entered into the Pit of Darkness?”
“Yes, oh yes I did; I had thought many times of what had become of them and of the many others that I’d helped along the way.”
The Lady looked upon him and asked “Kind sir, what would have happened if you’d stayed to see that young damsel to a safe haven? Would you not have been late approaching the farmer and his child? And then who would have been there to help them to save their animals which were their livelihood?” The Hero looked at her with a look of astonishment. She then continued on saying “And what do you suppose would have become of the old man if you hadn’t been there to give him your blanket and stocking? Do you think that he would have survived?”
Slowly the Hero looked up and said “I guess not; but still...”
“No more buts...” the Wise Old man said then as he looked upon the Hero. “You cannot fix all the problems of all the ones you meet along the way. They too have their own responsibilities to help themselves. You helped as you could; and yes, even more so in risking your own life in helping as you did. Do you really believe that those deeds along with the many others you did were not beneficial to them? I will tell you now that you carried those visions within your heart with you as you entered the Darkness; for this was the Pit of Dismay; a place of self-examination; as was each of the obstacles that you faced within that Forest were. You needed to prove to yourself that you would indeed do what you had to do to get through each barrier; each challenge; for that was what they were, The Forest of thorns, and the bog, as well the Fire and the Ice that followed.”

The Hero looked at him and hung his head down at last understanding what those tests had shown himself about himself. The Lady then said, “Come with us and we will guide you the rest of the way; and there you will find your robe and your pack and cloak. You may even find a few other items that you deem lost.” Upon hearing of the Robe, the Hero turned bright red and started to stammer an apology; but the Lady just laughed softly at his discomfort and said “Fear not; nor be ashamed for you have been reborn and as such it is fitting that you would come out with this rebirth as he did when first you were born. He then followed along a step behind the two of them into a room filled with light. And inside he found is robe washed clean as well as his cloak and boots; with the fleece lining still inside waiting to cushion his feet as he walked.

The Lady looked at him and said “Wash yourself and dress yourself, and then look into the mirror and tell us what you see.” They then went out through a doorway and left him alone to complete his tasks of cleaning and then dressing himself once more in the robe of white


*Chapter Eight*
Mirror of Truth

Tried and tested by sharpened thorn;
Bleeding with his flesh then torn.
Each wound he took, he then ignored;
He went to be reborn.

Through stench and mire, he then strode;
Into that place, where bogs abode.
‘Twas there he tossed his precious sword;
To lighten up his load.

Through flames of fire; and then of ice;
He lost each inner hidden vice.
Naked then he onward went;
Into the Dark and paid the price.

For as he went he then did face;
His deepest fear, within that place.
Twisted then, his mem’ries bent;
Almost, his truth, misplaced.

In that dark pit, almost broke;
The Dark, his truth had been un cloaked.
But then within the light, he soared;
The truth invoked.

With eyes of steel; then forged in flame;
Then by that ice, ne’er more the same.
With body burnt, he came restored;
His heritage to claim.

As he left the room and went into a secondary one, he noticed a full length mirror standing across the room from him. He looked towards it and saw what he thought was a stranger; for standing there inside that glass stood a slim but well-built man who looked to be in his late thirties. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips; but the most striking thing about that man’s appearance was his eyes; they looked hard to him at first glance but then saw that no, they weren’t hard; but rather, they held a piercing gaze out if which now burned with such an intensity that was seemed to have the ability to look deep inside ones soul. And there within those eyes he saw as it were a flame that seemed to shine out of them as if they were lit with burning coals of fire; but it was not a fire that was uncontrolled but rather it seemed as if a layer of ice was interposed between those eyes and the outward world; But was that even possible to have fire and ice be seen together? “How can fire be cloaked in ice” he thought to himself as he studied those clear and penetrating orbs of blue. He shook his head and noticed that the image across from his followed suit, shaking his head as well. His mouth fell open in surprise understanding at last that the he now saw was in fact, himself. “It can’t be me” he whispered.

“Oh but it is you my Hero” a voice whispered back to him. He turned and saw the Lady standing there looking at him with a look of mild amusement on her face.
“No it can’t be; for I am short and rather stout as well while this image before me has the appearance of...”
“Of a hero...? Rest assured that it is you; for you have grown from the time you spent within the Forest as we; from all the trials and afflictions that you suffered within the Forest; and so have grown. Let me tell you now ‘tis true, for what you are gazing into is the Mirror of Truth. This image you behold is the truth of what you are on the inside; but it is also the way that you will be seen by others; for it is what is inside that will shine through for them to behold.”

Not understanding he looked upon himself once again and said “But a change like this would take years to accomplish and I was inside that forest for but a ten days at the most.”
The Old Man then stepped forward and spoke softly. “But you do not take into account the years of wandering you have endured, going forth in search of answers to questions that could only be found within you. For ten years you wandered on that long and lonely road; one day for each year of travel that you were out in search of this place; and then when at last you were ready; and that, my young friend, is when you found the entrance to that Black Forest.” The Lady then spoke up and said with a gentle laugh of amusement, “And in finding this place, you have found me once again.”

The Hero’s gaze fell upon her with sudden understanding and said “You were the young maiden as well as the young daughter of that Farmer.” He then turned to the Old Man and, smiling said “And you were that Farmer; as well as the foolish old man whom I had found sitting in the snow.”
“Guilty as charge” the two of them then spoke in unison both of them smiling. The beautiful Lady then looked at him and smiled saying “You were my hero then; yes, even before your physical transformation; for, my Hero, it is not the form of the body that makes a person into a hero; but the content of one’s heart.”

The Old Man then spoke up and said “It is time for you to depart; and us as well; for this room here is just a place of transference; from the Forest and all that it holds, into the world outside.” The Wise old man then asked him “Are you ready to take your place?”
The Hero looked down at his Robe and said “Yes, but must I wear this robe? Oh it is fine and I will one day don it as you have yours; but for now I would rather dress in those things that are more mundane; the cloak that you first gave me and the boots with the linings within as well.” He then turned to the Lady and said “The Kerchief that I lost, I most deeply regret though.”
“No need to regret the loss of that which isn’t lost; for kind Sir, the piece of cloth had fallen down into the cuff of your boots and had remained there, hidden within the lining that you later had worn.”
With wonder in his eyes, the Hero took from her the cloth that she then handed to him. He bowed low to her in response and looked around longingly for clothes that were better suited to travel than this robe for as beautiful it was, he still wished to be back in those plain ordinary trousers and jersey shirt.”

“Father, quit teasing him” the Lady then said. “Sir, if you would take a look inside your pack...”
He looked at the two and then noticed that likeness between the two of them. He smiled and hid a secret smile of relief in knowing that they were indeed father and daughter.
He then took the pack and found new clothing tailored to fit him; of trousers and a jersey shirt for him to wear; and then after changing and taking up once again his staff he said “I am ready”. Then just before he walked through the door that led to the outer world, he looked back at her and said “Will I be seeing you, er, both of you again?”
The Lady with her face now turning a slight red nodded her head and said “I think so. Maybe when you least expect it, you will see me, umm... there before you.” He smiled and then bowed while saying “I hope and pray that your words are true My Lady.”

The Old man gave a soft cough and said “There is a horse ready for you to ride out on. It would be unseemly for a Hero of your stature to be seen walking; It would be much better that you be riding. For it took you ten years to come this far, it wouldn’t seem right that it should take you the same length of time to return.”
“I will see you there my Hero” the Lady whispered softly to herself.”

They all then walked outside into a winter wonderland. The breeze had a slight bite to it; but nothing compared to the bitter cold that he’d endured walking on the giant slap of snow and ice. He looked and smiled up at the sun, relishing the sight of such light; something he’d missed more that he could say while trapped in that deep dark pit of blackness. But now here he was standing outside enjoying the beauty of the snow that was lightly falling. He took one more leisurely look around, and then climbed into the saddle of his mount. He looked around and said to the Old Man; the one whom he thought of as his mentor; his teacher. He then noticed the Lady standing next to her father.

He then looked around and saw no other mounts for them; wondering then he asked “Have you no mounts of your own?” The Old Man smiled and said “We have made other arrangements. Now go before it gets too late; for you have far to go. And with those words the Hero then turned forward on his mount and rode off into the sunset, smiling at the snow that was falling. He didn’t seem to have any fear of getting too cold; for he found himself immured against anything but the most extreme of cold weather.

Tucked away beneath a bedroll that was lashed to the back of his saddle, he found what looked like a lute; but when he looked closer he found it to be a lute, much like the one that his father had played and had even taught him so many years ago. He’d quickly glanced on back toward the other two but found that they had disappeared from sight. He smiled while wondering just what that other mode of transportation that the Old Man had enlisted for their use. He then replaced the gift back into its protective wrap and once again secured it beneath his bedroom that was underneath a weather proof tarp. He then prodded his mount into motion and started his trek back home.


*Chapter Nine*
A Hero’s Welcome

He traveled far to find his home;
Through woodlands found and grassy brome.
He traveled far oft times delayed;
Wide those lands he roamed.

And though his feet ofttimes did stray;
Still on he went, along that way.
But onward still, he plans were laid,
To reach his home one day.

For there it was he hoped to meet;
And there it was, he hoped to greet.
With memories of her sweet scent;
His journey to complete.

He thought of her; that Lady fair;
Her shining eyes and sun burnt hair.
So t’ward his home, his heart was bent.
With hopes that she be there.

The way was long that the Hero traversed; for many adventures lay out before him. And with him being a hero in truth, he was of the sort to go out to meet each one as they came. So it was that his fame spread throughout the Land as they spoke of the one who came riding a tall white stallion. They all spoke of his eyes that seemed to shine out as if they were filled with a blazing light when he was found intent on righting a wrong or bringing aid to those who were in need. But they also would mention of the way they would become calm and clear as if filled with ice from a pure lake of crystal water. They all spoke of his voice that was so strong yet so gentle. He carried with him a lute strapped to his saddle but protected by a tarp from any inclement weather

In the end it took him three full years to reach his destination; and when he was seen riding in on his steed, everyone around would gather to get a look at this living legend who now walked within their midst. They were then astonished when he turned aside from the grand Hotel that had just been built. Instead he was seen walking into the public house that stood nearby.

He gently pushed open the door then quietly stepped inside and stopped to take a look around. It looked within just as he remembered it; with a fire lit within the hearth to stave off the cold of this late autumn day. There were those tables still in place filled with the common folk of the township. The village had indeed grown over the years; but not to the extent that it didn’t seem like home to him; in fact he felt as if he had never left; that is until he noticed everyone turning and staring at him, wondering why he had chosen this place patronize.

The Innkeeper walked up to him and bowed, leading him to a table near the fire and said “Welcome to our humble Inn. How may we be of service to you Sire?”

The Hero looked up at this man whom he had known so many years before. He then smiled that same smile that he had still within his heart from all those years gone by. The Innkeeper looked at him puzzled now and said “Sire, for some reason you seem vaguely familiar to me; no disrespect to you; but you have a look about you that reminds me of a young man who used to work here.”
The Hero looked at him saying “And what has happened that he is no longer here; if I may ask good Innkeeper?”

The man, who was the owner of this place started to tremble at the sound of his voice.
“Please good Innkeeper, I did not mean to alarm you; it is just that...” The hero then fell silent, not willing to finish is sentence.
“Oh no Sire; it is just that he was a good lad and a hard worker; though he was a bit of a dreamer at times. It was just that for a moment, the sound of your voice caused me to bring to mind the lad; for you see, he was an orphan and I, well, I sort of took him in when his parents were killed by brigands who had taken to roaming the highway leading into our village.”

Almost the Hero stood and proclaimed himself to this most gentle of men who had taken a grieving stricken boy in and helped him; giving him shelter and food as well as a job. Sighing then he staid instead “That was a very kind deed that you did; but what became of him, do you know?”

The old innkeeper looked at him sadly and said “An old man came in and spoke to him; it was but a short time later that he left my employment saying that it was time that he went out and learned to make his own way in the world. He said that one day he would return; but as of yet, he hasn’t. And now I fear the worst for him.” The old man then hung his head in grief but then quickly lifted it up and said “But that is now the past; it is best that I keep on with this place in his honor; one can never tell; for he may one day return.”

The Hero looked at him and said sadly “So you never heard from him again?”
“He sent a few letters back stating that he was now following his dreams.”
“And what were those dreams that would cause you to doubt that he would return one day” the Hero then asked.
Hesitantly the old man answered saying in a whisper “It was his wish to go out and help those in need so that no other young boy would suffer the loss of their parents as he had. He wished to be as you are now; a hero who sought only to help others.”
“That is a worthy dream to hold to; so then you believe that he might have failed.”
“He was a good boy with a pure heart; but he was short for his age and tended toward the side of plumpness having lived an easy life here.”

The Hero looked at him and laughed an easy laugh. “So you did not work him hard enough?”
“No sire, for I did not think him strong enough for the heavy work that lay in that direction. It may be that I was mistaken in this; but my heart felt sorrow for him and did not wish to burden him too much with back breaking work.”

The Hero then placed an order for food and mulled wine to help chase away the cold. He then took his lute and removed it from its protective case and started to strum a few notes. Soon he was playing a merry little tune that had everyone listening and clapping their hands in time.

Off in the shadows sat an old man dressed in a white robe nodding and smiling at the tune that was being played. Next to him sat a beautiful Lady who was obviously his daughter.
“He has arrived daughter, do you not hear him playing? Can you still doubt?”
She looked over at the Hero and smiled, waiting for the one sure sign that this man was still the same man that she had watched ride away.
“Father, I must be certain; what if I go up to him and find that he had changed. You must realize the possibility of that?”
“Yes of course; but you have seen within his heart and should know the unlikeliness of that.”
“But still I must be sure” she answered him while gazing across the room toward where that man was sitting. Before long though he stilled the strings; then looking downward he strummed a soft cord and started singing. It was a song of a beautiful young maiden who had needed to be rescued.

The wise old man went over to the counter and spoke to the young man standing behind it and nodded toward the one who sang.
“Do you know who this might be?” he asked.
“No sir, I canna’ rightly say; but he be a mighty good singer; there be talk of him bein’ the Hero that is said to ta travel da lands helpin’ others along the way; might be tha’ it is true an’ it be him; though I canna truthfully say’ the young man said. “But could be him, he has the look of a hero.”

“Have you seen many hero’s before?”
“Nay, I haven’ seen one b’fore; but if one was to look like a hero, then it would he would be lookin’ like this one here for sure.”
“Well then it might be best to do as you do now and hold your opinion. Could be a hero would look like...” The old man looked around and then said “Well, like me for instant.”
“Oh sir, I mean no disrepec’ ta you; but you look ta be mighty old ta be a hero. No offences please sir.” The wise old man laughed and said “no offence be taken; but let me tell you something; I once knew a real hero that was short and somewhat round of belly; but when it came to the hero stuff, he was very good at it. In fact, you see that young lady over there? She is my daughter and it was her that he rescued from a bunch of brigands. Chased them all off by himself without harming a one of them.” He then smiled and added “Though he did give the oldest one, who was still but a teen aged boy, a good thrashing with the flat of his blade, even after that bully had come at him with a knife.”

The young man’s eyes grew wide at that. “Are you sayin’ that I could be a here like him, or like this gallant minstrel here?”
“Now why do you ask such a question; is it that you dream of such things for yourself?”
“Oh no sir; I prefer to stay right here; and maybe one day take a bride and maybe even own for myself a place like this one. I would raise a family and live a happy peaceful life.”
“And that my good young man is another type of hero as well. One who would work hard to succeed in his chosen honorable profession and raise his children with the same right attitude.”
The young man blushed at those words and then quickly turned toward another customer who had approached the counter for a mug of ale. The wise old man turned back to where he daughter was sitting listening to her Hero sing his song of a lost love who he had been seeking now for several years. He then looked back at the young man and said “yes, a hero in his own right.”

He then looked at his daughter sitting there and decided that it was time to do something about this. So he strode over to the table where she sat and then with a flicker of his hands a bright light came into being casting out the shadows that they’d been sitting under; he then turned and “accidentally” turned over an adjoining table knocking it over along with a chair or two thereby causing a loud ruckus.
“Father, what are you doing? Are you trying to draw attention toward us? What if he sees us?”
And of course that was exactly what happened just as he intended. “Oh so sorry for the interruption gallant minstrel; please continue with your singing for my daughter is quite taken with your choice of songs.

Of course when all of this happened, the Hero had stopped his playing and had looked over to see if anyone needed his help. But when he saw who it was, his mouth fell open. He then looked at the Old Man plainly puzzled by the obvious ploy to bring his attention to him then in looking at the one he’d named as his daughter, his smile grew wide and in joy his fingers once more danced over the strings bringing forth even more beautiful music to the world.

When he had finished, the crowd all gave him a quick and hardy applause, then when they all saw that he was finished, they all went back to their own business that they’d been involved with just a few minutes earlier.

The Hero then stood and taking up his instrument and went over to the table where the Old Man and his daughter now sat. When he arrived there, he bowed low to her and said “Is my Lady in need of assistance?” he asked. She looked at him and then smiled knowing that yes, this was the same one who had rescued her once before.
“From you My Hero, always”.
“Then come with me and I shall carry you off to safety.” The Old Man looked at him and said “Ahem; that is my daughter that you are speaking of Young Hero. I do hope that your intentions are honorable”
In answer he said “I sir? I am always honorable; for I was so taught by my Master while in training for my... uh... hero hood?” At these words, the three of them started laughing as then then went out into the world together. Then as he was going through the door, the Hero suddenly turns back and glances back on the man who was his adopted father. He then sees him and smiles in greeting and touches his heart.

Back inside the Inn, the innkeeper was left standing there with his mouth opened as then a smile spread over his face and he whispered to himself “Welcome home Hero.” Then off in the distance he hears the voice of his adopted son, the Hero singing out to the Lady who now rode with him;


The stars within that peaceful night;
The moon within that shown so bright.
They brought to mind his Lady Fair;
Seen within their light.

Then longing for those soft warm days;
Found longing for those warming rays.
He looked within the cooling air;
And sought that golden blaze.

So much of both reminded him;
The sun when caught on western brim.
The sunrise found that matched her hair;
Then once again on eastern rim.

[Come now with me my Lady Love;
Shine down like those soft lights above
Return my love back now to me;
My love, My Lady Love.]

The way she stood, in beauty found;
With gentleness her heart was bound.
With smile as soft as seen the light
That shines upon the ground.

The sound that’s heard when soft she speaks;
Like music that my heart then seeks.
The light seen at the of night;
When soft the daylight breaks.

The way she walks; each movement seen;
In shadowed form, yet still I glean
Within the sun or moons soft light;
Graceful found in form and mien.

[Come now with me my Lady Love;
Shine down like those lights above
Return my love back now to me;
My love, My Lady Love.]

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