My life it
seems has all been spent
War’ing and
fighting away
Each and
every moment
Of each and
every day
From the
time when I was but a boy
In the
valley beyond the hill
My life has
passed with no real joy
And far too
many a thrill
Till now I
know not how to live
Without
sword drawn and sharp
Though all I
have I’d gladly give
To relax to
the sound of harp
And spin
some tale of bygone days
Of loves won
with stolen kiss
Though truth
vanish into dream spun haze
It be better
truth than this.
Copyright
© 1993 - Marty Vandermolen - All Rights Reserved
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