He sits down near the roaring fire
Wild shadows dance across his face,
A dark room scented with burning briar
Pairs with storytelling like a warm embrace.

Glancing around at those who have gathered
To hear him weave stories with his silver tongue,
Shining eyes meet his gaze and you can bet no chatter
Will be heard amongst them ’til the tale is done.

With a twinkle in his eye he begins to narrate
The saddest story that has ever been told,
The tale of a maiden with such a cruel fate
That would make the hottest tea within earshot, cold.

It’s a story of love and abandonment, of malice and spite,
A comedy and a drama that’ll make you laugh and cry.
A tale of joy and  loss, of hatred and fright
And a heartache so strong. Everything goes awry!

The audience chuckles and the audience wails,
His words build them up and his words tear them down.
He holds them entranced, as though under a veil,
Like a skilled hypnotist, keeps them spellbound.

A narrative so sublime the very moon strains to hear
And stars fall to their knees, weeping silver tears
As they listen to the tragic beauty of his rhymes
Softly ringing in the breeze before dissolving in a dark, velvet sky.

Concluding the tale, he gets up to retire
Leaving them incredulous, sitting by the fire.
Their astounded expressions make the storyteller laugh,
There’s truly no doubt he’s **** good at his craft!