Angel Hair
I've searched for a place to lay and rest As fatigue was mere steps behind. Withered was my strength at best At ease was where I needed my mind Not far in the distance stood a quaint little Hamlet With several homes who's doorways were lit. With frail arms I rapped at the entrance Answered to me was a delicate fragrance. “What brings you here at this given hour?” a gentle voice did speak. “It is a place of rest that I seek,” a frail voice escaped this traveler. The door was ajar and peered through was a maiden Fair skin, pale lips, and hair as dark as a raven “You may rest for the night,” said she. To my tired delight she bade passage to me. She said, “The spare room is at the end of the hall, “If you need to freshen up, across is the bath.” It was the bed that answered the call, But shower I must, as this was part of my path. Though dreary was I in this place The droplets fell with a cozy embrace A step in the tub of porcelain design Not needing much, this settl...