A Forgotten Tome.
Across the fruited land, I have traveled well. Even crossed both oceans to those
distant lands.
Now, when the autumn's days grows old and the many trees leaves do fall.
Dawn breaks over the silent plowed fields.
Soon, the landscape will be bare and stark against the sky, the clouds darken with rain begin to loom over
head.
I will sit down next to a cozy fire roaring in the chimmeny, I will recall those many memories of some time ago.
How I learned to march, drill, and fight. Then the pages will become alive with those tales of lost loves and conqured foes.
I can hear the wind moan like a wound beast. The lighting will scar the skies and the thunder will boom like the artillery sound.
Then pen to paper will I be capturing all those moments of years past.
My forgotten tome will take form.
Across the fruited land, I have traveled well. Even crossed both oceans to those
distant lands.
Now, when the autumn's days grows old and the many trees leaves do fall.
Dawn breaks over the silent plowed fields.
Soon, the landscape will be bare and stark against the sky, the clouds darken with rain begin to loom over
head.
I will sit down next to a cozy fire roaring in the chimmeny, I will recall those many memories of some time ago.
How I learned to march, drill, and fight. Then the pages will become alive with those tales of lost loves and conqured foes.
I can hear the wind moan like a wound beast. The lighting will scar the skies and the thunder will boom like the artillery sound.
Then pen to paper will I be capturing all those moments of years past.
My forgotten tome will take form.
Thank you for sharing.