Seeing you there, like unto a songster of old, with wind in your hair...I tell myself tales of things, in meter, which might be. Come along and sing this song with me. One ponders. Will it allow feelings to be unfettered and free? I am no metronomic pillar buffeted as I am in the tides of futile emote. The Bard take me! My completion is tardy fruitless. Conduct the lessening and begin.
