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Remember a time, when sitting by the roaring fire, listing to t he old ancient tales, of forbidden love, and dashing knights, filled our young minds. The stories sang to us the unknown world of adventure and danger, it sent shivers down our backs, it made our heats set on fire. It made us want to leap up there and then, race forward, to go and join in. To the land of faraway. Where the grass was green and lush, waving in the gentle breeze, the mountains loom over head a dull grey, shadowing all underneath. To clear diamond blue waters of lakes, to the singing of the larks, as the swoop and soar over head. To the soft padding of the hunters foot, to the gentle creak of the trees, as groan and moan in the wind. To the castle a glittering grey, with it towers and turrets, sit quietly in the rolling valley, a symbol of power and wealth it screams, to everyone. It squats there as the sun smiles behind the mighty fortress.
To the thunder of the many hooves, as they shake and wake the ground they stamp on, as they storm ahead, on a mission, or just hunting I never no. There mail bright in the cold morning sunlight, as it loudly clinks and clanks, to bold banners flapping in the wind. There cloaks blow behind them like a ghost in the night. To the maiden who sits fair, Oh! how lovely was she, to look upon her face, if craved by the angels, to the golden silk of her long flowing hair, To her dress swirling around her, she sits so queenly, on her stead, her sapphire eyes watch the world. That is the world they remember. Lonelychild 10
