tell me stories
tell me stories:
did the prince charm the dragon,
with spellbinding wit and
a touch of teasing humour;
did he win the gilded trove,
by braving flames and
dodging talons, tell me:
how did it happen.
tell me stories:
did the princess sit idly,
waiting for a saviour and
a forthcoming rescue;
or merely fixed the game
when she met her fancy; did
she secretly have a pet,
covered in scales, friendly.
tell me stories:
could knights ride a farmer’s wagon,
was a horse a worthy companion;
what labour kept their armour shiny,
who chose the chainmail of fashion;
how did one make the decision
to bear wounds and take arms;
what would they do if they hadn’t.
tell me stories:
did the messenger realise the folly,
weaved into words they carried;
did they know the cruelty
in their display of callousness,
when they followed orders blindly;
did they chalk it down to recklessness,
when their choices preceded tragedy.
tell me stories,
and I will love them all;
not equally, I must confess
and some possibly quite hardly,
but each word matters, nonetheless;
lest silence mutes the voice
of anguish stitched in breaths,
of hope where it is scarce.
tell me stories,
for I would love to hear
of all the joyous startles,
some good-hearted muddles
all in stride with a few chuckles;
each story an ensemble
where the best of us will linger,
and continue to enthrall.
Very important disclaimer: I mean no harm to messengers! Maybe a little bit, if they knowingly wreak havoc… but mostly no harm! This poem popped into my head as I was listening to a song called Stories.
