Then he rides upon his steed through the swirling mist,
With his golden armor glowing like a fire,
As he sweeps down on the forces of all evil;
His broadsword humming like an angel’s choir.
Why are these dreams, all filled with wonder, only dreams?
Where are the men of yesterday who lived the parts?
Where is a hero I can hold?
Where are the knights, the pirates, bold?
Where are the kings, where are the dreams that steal my heart?
The Assassins
Nose to the handle, forehead to the blade,
The vow of the dagger has now been made,
And death to the man who breaks it first.
A violent death, an eternal curse.
Blood is the mark of the brotherhood
And the sign of the snake is understood.
Beneath the shadows, hid from sight,
The ring of assassins shall meet tonight.
The Barroom
He walked into the barroom
Like he thought he owned the place;
His fists the size of hammers,
A hard look on his face.
Every eye was on him
As he downed the amber drink.
He'd have left her there, I know it,
If he'd only had time to think.
But the moment that he saw her,
With her pale face painted bright,
It was like his world exploded
And it turned him cold inside.
His hand was in his pocket,
He drew the pistol out;
The women all were screaming
And a man began to shout.
Her face turned white and deathly sick
As she spoke his name aloud,
Her hand was reaching for him
When a shudder shook the crowd.
The roar was almost deafening
For such a little gun
And a heavy silence followed
When once the deed was done.
He stood there looking at her
As she fell back in the chair,
The man who sat beside her
Sprang, running like a hare.
There didn't seem a lot to say
When the gun fell with a thud
As it landed on the rough wood floor
In her scarlet pool of blood.
The Barstole Band
There was something strange in the air that night
As his weapon leaped in his hand;
Something strange in the air that night
Out near the Barstole Band.
The ship was white as snow
And the boosters brightly glowed
As they raced to the unknown
Out near the Barstole Band
There was something akin to fear that night
And it ate at his gallant heart;
Something akin to fear that night
Half-hidden in the dark.
But he never said a word
When the red alert was heard,
He just climbed into his bird
And tore out through the dark.
There was something waiting, silent and cold
In the black and vermilion haze;
Something waiting, silent and cold,
Floating in outer space.
Through the time warp it had broached
It watched the ship approach
Like a shining iv'ry loach
'Cross the endless void of space.
There was something there, he could feel it now,
And his heart hammered in his ears;
Something there, he could feel it now,
But warriors show no fear,
So he fired off his probe
Into the Barstole flow;
He saw it's fiery glow
As it penetrated there.
There was something grey flashing on the screen
Like nothing he'd ever seen;
Something gray flashing on the screen
With tendrils, gold and green.
They thrashed out wildly,
With an almost lightning speed,
As far as the eye could see,
Long tendrils, gold and green.
There was something coming through on sensors now.
The computers confirmed his fear.
Something coming through on sensors now;
Analysis was clear.
There was only one slim chance
To stop the thing's advance ---
Save the galaxy's expanse;
But it would cost him dear.
There was something calming once the choice was made;
A sense of peace descending.
Something calming once the choice was made,
Though everything was ending.
In his heart he cursed his luck,
Set the ship to self-destruct,
Aimed her straight into the muck
And set her spinning.
There was something ominous in the room
Where control listened desperately.
Something ominous in the room,
But the silence was complete.
They waited for his reply
To be beamed across the sky,
Still praying he was alive,
Knowing he'd met his doom.
The Brotherhood
Beneath the pallid, hollow moon
She tasted her first blood.
The chills that racked her then thin frame
Raced o'er her like a flood.
She found that she was smiling,
Though she never thought she would;
The sword was heavy in her hand,
But, still, it's weight felt good.
There were night clouds slowly drifting,
Casting shadows 'mong the trees;
The low wind that was whispering
Shook the branches eerily.
As she listened to her heart beat
Like a hammer on the wood,
Her eyes searched through the darkness
For the rest of Brotherhood.
She could sense their presence 'round her
As she stood there all alone;
She could feel their threatening danger
Shout from every nerve and bone.
She waited in grim silence,
While revenge throbbed through her veins,
To kill her country's tyrants;
End their short but bloody reign.
Hooded figures leaped before her.
Glitt'rng blades shone in their hands,
They circled 'round like vultures
Where the warrior took her stand.
They were on her in a moment,
Sword blades clanging like a bell,
While they whirled and twirled before her
Like the demons dance in hell.
But she battled on undaunted,
As she made each motion count.
They could hear the screams of souls lost
Echo to the distant mount.
She almost felt immortal
When she saw the last one die,
And the sweet roar of her triumph
Shook the woods up to the sky.
The Dew Fairies
In the madness of the moment
Old Asserna called them down
And he told them of the changes
That were happening all around.
The fairies were in panic
As they cried, "What can we do?
We must find another homeland!"
And they marched off two by two.
But all the female fairies
Remained behind to pack
And prepare for the migration
When the men folk all came back.
They waited and they waited
While more people crowded in,
But still there wasn't any sign
Of an
y of their men.
'Til at last they didn't dare to show
Their faces in the day,
But at night they kept the vigil
With lamps to light the way.
O' the years have passed by slowly
And the fairies of the dew
Are crying for their loved ones
Who are lost without a clue.
They meet each night at sundown,
Gazing, longing, 'cross the hills
To watch and wait and wonder
'Til the sun peeps o'er the fields.
And there beneath it's golden rays
As sparkling as cut glass,
If you look carefully you'll see
Their teardrops on the grass.
The Door
Why do these flights of fancy always lead me to this door?
I know I've seen its weather-beaten panels oft' before.
A myst'ry lurks behind it; in my pocket is the key,
And my fingers grope there for it every time, in spite of me.
The wind is sobbing sadly, as a chill runs up my spine,
And the thrill of danger heightens all my senses like good wine.
I know that evil's waiting, should I turn the knob at last,
For some sin that I committed in the long forgotten past
Seems insistent I remember, though it's shrouded in a mist,
And I have no recollection what the secret really is.
There are sullen clouds above me and a fine mist in the air
Mingles with my perspiration 'neath the old door's brazen glare.
I can feel it as it haunts me, 'til there is no rest nor sleep,
Just a never-ending journey through the shadows, dark and deep.
And invariably it brings me to this hated, hellish door
With it's overwhelming menace oozing out of every board.
My fevered mind is burning, there's a blur, a whispered sound,
And sometimes, near to madness, I could kick the damn thing down.
But I'd never really do it, for I know that in the room
Lies the ending of all sanity and my unwelcome doom.
What it is, I could not tell you, but I know with certainty
That the day the door is opened spells the end of all for me.
The Farm
Sayla came down to the farm at dawn,
But there wasn't a soul around.
She found a note pinned to the door
Saying "We've all gone to town."
It was dated back three days ago
And the ink was pale and smeared.
The door was locked so she pressed her face
'Ginst the glass and in she peered.
It was dark inside, as dark as night,
For the window shades were drawn,
An eerie cloud of silence clung
Like dust to the house and lawn.
So she wandered past the garden patch
To where the old barn stood;
It was just a tumbled down gray stack
Of weather-beaten wood.
But somewhere inside she heard a noise
And wondered what it was,
So she tried the door, it was fastened tight.
Then there came a long low buzz.
The door swung wide and she stepped inside,
Her eyes were wide with awe.
A flying saucer was parked inside,
Lights flashing 'mongst the straw.
Little men with purple skin
Were running to and fro.
She looked around, they were 'hind her now,
And there was no place to go.
-------------------------------------
Smitty came down to the farm at dawn,
But there wasn't a soul around.
He found a note pinned to the door
Saying "We've all gone to town."
It was dated back six days ago
And the ink was pale and smeared.
The door was locked so he pressed his face
'Ginst the glass and in he peered.................
The Glory of the Day
We were so damn sure that we would win
We never considered the consequence
Of losing for a moment.
We never considered the blood and pain,
The battles lost or fought in vain,
We never considered anything
But the glory of the day.
The Goblin
Glumby stood in the old doorway
With his hand upon the knob
As he listened in the stillness,
For he thought he heard a gob'
Come a-tappin' at the window
And a-rattlin' at the sash,
Blowin' gaily down the chimney
Stirrin' up the soot and ash.
And his eye it was a-dartin'
To the left and to the right
But he couldn't see a blasted thing
A-hidin' in the night.
Still he knew it was a-waitin'
'Til he went back in the house,
Then he knew it'd come a-creepin'
Silent as a wooly mouse,
Doin' all it's little mischief,
Such as vexes man and wife,
So he stood there by the hour
Starin' out into the night.
'Til the sun, it came a-crawlin'
Up the dusky, ragged sky
And he turned around to enter,
But 'twas naught but earth and sky.
There was not a stone left layin'
Where there used to be a floor,
And not a board a-standin'
But the door frame and the door,
He shook his head in wonder,
For it must have been a job
Haulin' all the rocks and lumber,
Even for a blinkin' gob'.
The Marshal
He rode with the wind against his back,
The dust rose in his face.
The silver star shone on his vest
Of leather tightly laced.
A forty-five hung on his hip,
The tool of his trade,
And his weather-beaten face was burned
The colour of the clay.
His sharp blue eyes looked everywhere
At once, it almost seemed.
The old, worn saddle creaked and moaned
Beneath his canvas jeans.
The battered Stetson on his head
Was streaked with dirt and sweat,
And his pointed boots were caked with mud,
Once fresh, now dried and set.
A breeze stirred through the mountain pines;
The sad cry of a lonely bird
Announced the coming night.
The darkness fell around the man;
He never stopped to rest,
But continued at his solemn pace
Toward the mountain crest.
The smell of smoke hung in the air
From somewhere to his right.
His hand caressed the rifle butt
As the fire came in sight.
Around it stood three desperate men;
Their guns were in their hands.
As he shouted out his business,
He knew they'd make a stand.
Their guns spit flames, he called their names,
Then squeezed the trigger light.
Three souls descended into hell
On that dark, dreary night.
He found the stolen bag of gold,
Then mounted up his horse.
His weary heart was satisfied
Justice had run its course.
The Moon Munchie
(for Joleene and Libby, who are tired of the killing)
The moon munchie sat upon the moon,
Humming a silly little tune,
While he ate big bites from 'round the equator,
And that
's what made the moon have craters.
The Moon Sank
The moon sank below the horizon
As she held him to her breast.
Her grip was like an iron band,
Her lips as cold as death.
Her claws were cloaked in velvet
But he felt them rip the flesh,
While 'neath the veil her cold black eyes
Glittered through the mesh.
He thought he saw a twisted smile
Flicker briefly 'cross her face,
Or perhaps it was a shadow
Dancing 'low the midnight lace.
It really didn't matter;
It's seldom that it does,
Though he knew the painted harlot
For the witch she really was.
And it really was a struggle
As she fought him for his soul;
His passion was hot fury,
But her heart was icy cold.
He left her side a moment;
He could hear her hold her breath
As he walked away forever,
Disappearing in the mist.
The North Wind
The scout burst in the clearing
When he saw the lady there;
She glittered like an angel
With glowing silver hair.
The song that she was singing,
As she played the mandolin,
Was like wine sweetly flowing
Filling cup and cup again.
He sat down at her feet awhile
To listen to her play.
A tender smile, a hint of blush,
Stole 'cross her iv'ry face.
"Where do you roam, my pretty lad?"
Her voice a frosty blend;
Her eyes the grey of stormy seas;
Icy cold, they haunted him.
"I'm headed for my destiny,
Or so a gypsy says."
"And have you found it yet, my lad?"
"I do believe I have."
She smiled then a knowing smile
And shyly beckoned him,
As he followed her forever,
Winter's queen, the North Wind.
The Pit
The luck of the Izramel can't get me out of this,
And all of the gods can't bring me safely through the mist.
The flames are leaping higher;
No way to slow the fire,
And demons, dancing, laugh while blowing me a kiss.
The last of the Morin Monks in tattered robes of white
Still stands in waiting for the blessed candle's light.
While silently I falter
Towards the icy altar,
Still sore and stumbling from the bloodiest of fights.
Not even the faith of all the saints can touch me now
As I stand before the empty furrow of the plow.
Beneath the cloak there looms
Vengeance replaced by doom,
While dark and heavy hang the twisted, whispered vows.
The last of the Morin Monks in tattered robes of white
Still stands in waiting for the blessed candle's light.
What are the sounds we're hearing?
The sweaty stokers swearing.
Still I'll go down in glory through the fires of hell tonight.
The Silver Bird
He rode alone through the deep, dark woods