To Tylia, My Sugarplum

by Bumble the Bard

Yesterday I travelled through the forest east of Yew,
I was tired of slaying ettins and had nothing else to do;
So I stopped to rest my carcass beneath the giant trees,
And to pass the time of day there I tried to count the leaves.

Later I was strolling along the shore at Cove,
I watched the golden sunset and the skies of pink and mauve;
I sat upon the beach there and I dug in with my hand,
And I started idly counting each little grain of sand.

Later as it darkened I looked into the sky,
And tried to count the stars above as they twinkled way up high.
But the stars they seemed to mock me and I thought I heard them say:
You will never count our number though you live for many a day.

Then I thought of my fair Tylia and all the words I'd need
To say how she outshines the stars and their radiance does exceed.
For all the words that I possess would scarcely be enough
To tell you but a fraction of the splendour of my love.

For it seems to me if all the stars, and every grain of sand,
And all the leaves on all the trees throughout this fertile land
Were changed by some strange magic and words they could become,
There'd still be far too few for me to praise my sugarplum.
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Copyright (C) 1999 Philip Colby.