The Fable-teller
- GODSAVEME
- Jan 31
- 1 min read
Poem no. 31, 31st January 2026
The Fable-Teller is here
Her low voice calms me with its quiet grandeur.
She gathers up my childhood dreams,
those satin-syllabled ones,
and sends them upward, to that far-off land,
like grains of sand scattered to the wind.
The Fable-Teller has returned
Her low voice lulls my aching soul
She heeds my adolescent hopes
those whose echoes fall to dust,
and sends them upward, to an imagined land
like rain-tears spilled and sown.
The Fable-Teller is no more
Her low voice ranges through other realms.
My adult dreams have become real to her,
those the night itself could not contain;
and I send them onward, in law and in faith,
towards Heaven
Like vows at last fulfilled.
Comments