Precious spell binding tales I happily weave
under the silken leaves of an old oak tree.
Stories of old that never mold do I relate
and golden tales of glory unbound do I speak.
Whimsical poems and little parodies do my
solemn words proclaim under the half light
of the wondrous velvety night just to give
everyone glorious delight.
My tales are long and short filled with valor
and prideful gallantry to amaze young hearts
just to impart the ancient truths that I've found
to be filled with the golden rules of life.
For I am an ancient teller of tales trying to
make everything seem happy and right in this
dark time of danger which we find ourselves
so sadly tucked in.
Donavon Scott Vinson
