Y'all are a strange band of misfits, but what the king wants, he gets." - Draft start

February 3, 2017

They headed north with minstrel, martyr, magician and mange (the dog).  Each one cradled by unique internal divisions and common external plights...as you know, bound to the law, as the law is bound to the direction of the ruling over the rulled; they were bound but brimming with excitement...playing least to what binds us and more to what entices us.  the possibility of each consecutive day being unlike any other: excitement, riches, and new knowledge to gain.  Tra-la- la-ing over grassy mounds, high peaks, and slipping through soggy valley streams.   We got to know one another, as one can only do, when strangers are pulled together by decree of the king to bring back the golden orb and hand delivery it to him under guise and mystery of hooded strangers passing through foreign lands....

now....this sets the opening tone ((( for purposes beyond our privy ))) no questions asked...well very few at least.... 

"I wonder if the food will be full of dried fruits and honey" - the minstrel wondered openly

 

"I would not doubt that you will find the northern food to be quiet full of seasonal dried fruits but they prefer the sweetness of three sap over honey; you will find honey in the mead...and syrups in the breads and mince pie." the magical was quick to insert his knowledge of the lands beyond the souther tier's boarders, he had a knack of knowing things...or making it seem as if knew most things. 

Bursting out and then fading; "FOR THE FOOD WILL BE RICH AND ABOUNDING in sapling's dew, the bees spent the spring buzzing to make this mead for you"  - sang the minstrel while strumming his lute. 

The martyr (small time in the gand scheme of marrtyr-hood...but martyr no less a sacrifice is a sacrifice)    grunted and toothlessly mumbled:  "Well i hope they have pudding on account that those barbarians took these all and are probably wearing them right now in there grave as a ornate reminder of their pillage... He sighed.... "I will never taste nor feel the pleasure of eating minced pie or leg of lamp again, but oh well...everything has a purpose"   Bending down and panting mange on the head: "the leg of lamb is all your boy!  eh!...won't that be a special treat for you! "

 

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I love sharing who I am with the world.  Me: a mirror, expanding, loving life....poet and an evolving multi-dimensional being.  You: a guest....and also mirror mirror. 

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