The Minstrel's Dream Poem by Jeffrey Stultz

The Minstrel's Dream



In dappled light of forest green
a minstrel wandered through the trees,
He stopped a while to rest himself
and play his lute upon the breeze.

A handsome lad of nineteen years,
his voice was full, his hands were skilled,
he softly sang the sweetest song
of deepest longing unfulfilled.

Unknown to him within the wood,
an elven maid of royal blood
did hear his song upon the air
and was enchanted then and there.

Silently she stole up to the place
to hear his song and see his face.
'What magic hath this mortal boy,
to weave this tapestry of joy? '

'He plays as if he knows my heart,
and boldly sings its secret parts.'
She then emerged from within the wood,
and by his side she now stood.

As he sang, he saw her there,
and trembled at her beauty rare.
'Doth my heart see its own song?
If thou be not real twil burst ere long.'

In passionate answer to his plea,
she kissed his cheek most tenderly.
'Sweet mortal I pray, play on please,
that my poor heart may find its ease.'

So play he did with a Muses fire,
a song of love, joy, and desire.
Magical music filled the glade,
as he won her heart with his serenade.

Never had the world seen such a sight,
the flame of true love burning bright;
They laughed and sang together that night,
she lay in his arms til the morning light.

In the mist of the dawn with a heavy heart
she knew from her true love she now must part,
She gazed at him before she fled,
by royal decree today she 'd wed.

She touched his face now as he slept,
and great crystal tears in sorrow she wept.
'Remember me in thy dreams my love,
for its loving you I'm guilty of.

So precious were her tears of love,
that each became a snow white dove.
He woke as if to a winter scene,
so many they were, so pure and clean.

A fluttering dream, they all took flight,
and with them his memory of the night;
like the dying echoes of a distant song
whose fading final note lingers on.

A faerie flute warbled high and sweet,
and worked its magic now complete;
setting the minstrel back on his way,
and welcoming in a brand new day.

aka Taliesin Flynn
1996

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