Tales

The scratch of the quill
Upon parchment brown
Denoted beginning
Of thoughts profound

Recorded were leys
Of heroic tales
Of deeds enacted
In stark detail

Of import to man
Were the acts of this one
That left this world
Untouched next to none

Whose stories thus reach
Ears near and far
The bard whose tales
Kept one glued as tar

Come one come all
Listen my song and dance
Come to my thrall
Enter ye to a mindless trance

So did he write
A will to legends make
Singing tales of others
Spinning history in his take

Flowery tongue so fine
Language spun divine
You will fall prey
Dreaming dreams sanguine

Of tales retold
In his bardic fare
In toys of song
And parchment penned

Will ye now read
Or will ye ignore
Will history repeat
Or is it forgot?