Her valley home was hot and wide,
Ringed by peaks of ancient pride,
And children’s children were born inside,
Before the day he came;
Tilling soil she spent her nights,
Resting days beneath the heights,
Denied all of love’s sweetest rites,
Medina was her name.
Each day at rest she would lay and sigh,
Sowing seeds at night she’d cry,
“Oh what a cursed thing am I,
That lives to bear such shame”;
At first a suitor came each day,
They touched her face and turned away,
“A maiden you will always stay!”
Thus became her fame.
So she dreamed of a love’s soft hands,
As she worked the valley lands,
Held only by her gown’s course strands,
And then one day he came;
He came from sky he came from stone,
He spoke with strong and gentle tone,
Of seeing magic dreams alone,
He sweetly said her name.
The people thought his ailment grave,
His talk of seeing dreams a rave,
The man who would be king made slave,
And beat ‘til he was tame;
Yet each day he’d find her still,
And with dreams her head he’d fill,
Of blues and greens of sky and hill,
And sweetly said her name.
So in them deep love did grow,
And in time he’d thought to show,
“I’ll never leave this valley low,
If you will share my name”;
The village men all roared in rage,
“Lock the mad man in a cage!”
Save for one a wise old sage,
Of much respect and fame.
We must be kind he can be saved,
From his mind this madness shaved,
He will no longer be enslaved,
Medina will share his name;
With joyful heart she found him fast,
Telling how cares would be the past,
If he would face this trial last,
Their lives would be the same.
But then in his voice was fear,
As if the news was dread to hear,
That they would sever his dream dear,
And hold them up to blame;
“My treasured dreams no more to see,
When surgeon takes the flesh from me,
If I must bear this pain for thee,
Let us begin the game.”
As day broke all did fall to sleep,
Medina thought of futures deep,
And of the love she’d always keep,
And whispered her new name;
But on nights breeze came despair,
When all discovered him not there,
He had returned to stone and air,
Beyond the Valley’s frame.
Her valley home was hot and wide,
Ringed by peaks of ancient pride,
And children’s children were born inside,
Before the day he came;
Wandering each night she’d cry,
Mourning for a love gone by
“A living dream once had I.”
Medina was her name.
me again
Unknown "Captain White" Wild
- 15 years, 4 months ago
