A True Bard

A True Bard would sit on a rock
and prove their pride
By playing the fiddle on
Midsummer's night.
Shaking all over
as the Ghost stared
right through
skin, muscle, tendon,
and bone in you.
It's dark and lonely
With nothing to hear
But one person playing
a fiddle on Skull Hill.
Creating a magic all on their own,
When dawn comes to pass
Silver lays bare where the
Ghost stood last.

Copyright Marina L. 8/23/03
(Based on a song in a fantasy book called "The Lark and the Wren" by
Mercedes Lackey).