A Troubadour’s Tale

Once upon a time I was a minstrel and I played my trade across the land
With all the pretty words and merry jingles and money always in hand
But as the travelling years wore on and on I was heedless of the need to take a rest
Or to see the unravelling of my song until all I had left was emptiness

And as it went I did not see it was leaving out of time out of tune out of touch
Not knowing it was going or feeling the grieving for the god-given gift I loved so much

Too late to count the cost or mourn the loss and for this I stand ready to be judged
The blame is all my own – I tell it like it was and the penalty I paid do not begrudge
I didn’t show respect so what else could I expect when the muse turned her back on me
That is what she did because of my neglect and my music lost all its harmony

The magic had long gone and faded and left me with a hollowness inside
For that’s how my indifference had made it just a noise without any joy or pride

But fortune may grant a second chance and ask us back into the dance
And so, my friends, that’s what came to be when the muse once again shone her light on me
Oh she returned the gift I missed for so long and so I offer up this little song
That it’s here today is truly like a dream and I have to say it means everything to me
Yes, that it’s here at all it means the world to me

© Des Wade 2019