From a land far away in a long lost time,
So far in the past that one it cannot find,
Deep in the forests of ash and of oak
Lived an old man of whom the elders had spoke.

Ageless this man – and ancient he was –
Told stories of the time that once was;
Stories of love, stories of war,
Stories of greed, and of so much more.

He would tell his old tales to young and to old
Each night by firelight whether it hot or cold.
To those who would come he would delight
With lore of lives past or lore from last night.

And of what he did tell there were a few gems:
Chronicles of heroes whose lives had once been.
The heroes in these stories of which he did speak
Lived in the hearts of both strong and of weak.

So now as I relay these timeless old tales,
Imagine a time when dragons did sail,
An age of brave knights, of kings, and of queens,
Of magical realms, and things left unseen,

When warriors fought valiantly with weapons of steel,
And peasants to royalty would bow and would kneel.
Enter this old, lost medieval land,
Buried beneath time’s own sands…

Sit a spell and let me tell this story that I know so well…

© Erick Pratt