Spin Doctors For Friend Alex Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

In days of yore long, long before
the spoken word took written form.
The Bards, the guardians of the lore.
In Great Men’s halls they would perform.

Their epic tales from history
to entertain the listening host.
With tales of war and mystery
and heroes which their race could boast.

Each teller added something to,
adjusted what they had been told.
By teachers who had altered too
the ancient tales they had retold.

Each myth and legend seems to be
a twisted version of some tale.
Which was quite true originally
Our search for truth is doomed to fail.

There’s little evidence to find.
Although we can extrapolate
from different versions left behind.
These fragments we appreciate.

Contain some truth enwrapt in lies,
Driven by curiosity
embark upon an enterprise,
The ultimate futility.

Though we can guess, we cannot know.
Our theories could be correct
Events which happened long ago
change with each telling I suspect.

03/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers