Minstrel Squire

There was a minstrel squire
who swoon-ded all the dames
And set their hearts afire
though he never named a name

A fascinating fellow
who used his words to cure
the lack of modern mellow
whilst dancing out the door

The colors that he painted
were never seen before
His spirit never tainted
a mixed up metaphor

And yet he came to me
craving him some words
From a long gone melody
known only by the birds

Right then I did discover
what made the maidens swoon
my writer’s heart he did uncover
with his lively squire’s tune

I set my pen to paper
and words did flurry fast
and fighting off the vapors
I hurried toward my task

And now, I tell you maidens
I understand the spell
The magic of his cadence
I’ve come to know too well

And pray us that the squire
does never lay down his pen
and dampen our admire
by becoming one of
Them

copyright 2008

(if you’d like to know who the squire is, you can find him here)