| Routious sat in a chair in his house and could smell the scent of flowers in a gust of wind that came through the window. His rocking chair was currently occupied and smoking his pipe without the chair would be a travesty all together. He didn't mind though, because of who was sitting in the chair. The Lady Merryheart was presently engaging in an afternoon visit and had brought him a gift of fresh muffins wrapped in a handkerchief tied with a red ribbon sitting in a wicker basket. The evening was pleasent and for once nothing disturbed him. His war was over and his men were off fighting their own battles and were too busy to send letters or speak of the past in which used to stir up the pool of all his previous experiences. The waters were clear, and everything had settled.
|
| |
| I'm becoming good at not thinking and analyzing. I wonder if that's good.
|
| |
| Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, a long way from home....
MOTHERLESS, MOTHERLESS, MOTHERLESS Child...
MOTHERLESS, MOTHERLESS, MOTHERLESS Child...
a long way from home...
This was the a song that was sung by the Bunn High School singing group. They sang it at every event one year. Man that was awesome.
|
| |