ANST - Another sad day...

[J. Michael Shew]

	Forgive me.  I feel I owe something to Master William.  I only
wish it had been for a better time:
The pipes will play on forever
Their song will never be done
For a bard is born to the highway
And roams till the road leads him home

The voice of the poet still lingers
The tales that he told will survive
Though he never will sit by the fire
His art keeps the artist alive

The feasthalls and forests still echo
The sound of his pipes lingers on
Laughter adds spice to the feasting
And the mead is made sweeter with song

The smiles that gave us he cherished
The dreams that he wove were the cost
He gave them away for the asking
And never regretted the loss

Here is a bench by the fire
His pipes and his cup have come home
But the heavens made welcome the hero
The gods have collected their own

The pipes will play on forever
Their song can never be done
A bard was born to the highway
And he roamed till the road led him home

	I know there is a fire somewhere, and he is beside it, playing and
telling his tales.  Save me a seat, William.  I'll have a few new ones
when I get there...

	Mikal

____________________________________________________________________________
  Herra-Domr Mikal the Ram; an annoying Bard of no redeeming qualities
__________________________(jshewkc at pei.edu)________________________________
	The Swan-Road is our for the season
	And Sword-wine is all that we spend
	The Gold and the Grain that we gather
	To wander the way of the wind
		(The Swanroad)

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