the newsbringer

in the morning of the world he came

to the place where sewed his body to his soul

welcomed back by his own tribe

he sat to bead the firelight with stories

 

many tales told he then

of fields aflame with midnight suns

and cities built on mounts of gold

and darknesses in the hearts of men

and somewhere in the tumbling words

this trifling nothing issued forth

 

in the land of wine

a fishing village made war for the first time

the men walked forth wreathed in smiles

wielding swords full royally they fought

and tramped in triumph home

aye they had the winning of it

the name of the village was rome