When there is a longing need

It was in the early morning that I felt I should go,

Yes, it was that time again, it was tugging within, me, it's just something you know

I had my knave prepare my trusty steed,

I asked that a satchel be prepared with all that I would need

The air was thick... like a morning mist

I took along my sword, and a mace, I did not know who or what lurked within its midst

It seemed that in no time at all

I was off on my way, well out of that dreaded smell of the horses' stall

I ventured ever forward to the monk who lives upon the grassy knoll

As ventured out, just past the nearby town, I heard the call to morning mass, by the church bell's toll

It was then that it struck once again, I go there that my well-being - he may mend

All the while, I pondered just how deeply this man moves me, and against him, myself, no I cannot defend

He seems to have a way that is able to reach inside and rattle things loose

I must, somehow, not let him know,...I'll hide things...oh...what's the use

This monk, you see, speaks to me as though he follows me everywhere

Yet, it is at other times, well...he is as though one...as one without a care

It was just by mid-day that I stopped along the way to take a break from the saddle,

I also needed to rehearse myself and not see him and begin to prattle

I sat down underneath the large willow

I bunched up my blanket and made a pillow

It was soon that the noonday breeze

Swooning all around me, taking all cares, gathering, as though leaves, whisking ‘em away with it, putting my mind at ease

I soon succumb to my weariness and fell a sleep

The intended meeting with the monk...in a day...yes, in a day I may keep.

Peace,

Bro. Smith SGS

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