- Soft moonlight steals through a silvan glade
Ghostly hidden footsteps patter like rain on a worn lean-to
Fitting are the matters of great import discussed within
So it seems, seated 'neath this bower of holly
With magic lingering overhead like a goodnight kiss
-
Conversation roves from what our two heroes' lives are
To what they will be, in grandest dreams
But they are content in their hideaway
Aside from parental ears and judging eyes
-
The heroes plot conquests and great feats
Breathtaking bravery and boundless sacrifice
The stuff of history, the stuff of myth
--Their stories come alive around them
-
The next night they are in bed early, curfew enforced
A 'big day tomorrow' -- though that's tomorrow isn't it?
But their meadow still shines with fantastic beauty
Imbued by a thousand tales of Lancelot du Lac
A thousand retellings of Frodo and Sam
-
Yes, soft laughter is still heard just down the path
If you listen with youthful ears and pure heart
The air hums with the clash of good and evil
And with the quiet belief and beautiful innocence of childhood