Do you know the story? An age or two ago,
There lived a man, simple and kind, whose name I do not know
But, it is told that upon this Earth an adventure he did have
I shall spin the tale for you, but briefly hence,
Since time is briefly sweet
So, for now you may put yourself at rest and put up your weary feet
A simple life this man did lead
and all who knew him knew his deed
and word were true as true indeed
and of him not a wary word be spoken
Though beset by hurt and pain
and Malice yet he still remain
As humble and kind a man as any knew,
For he was the Sower of the seeds of life
The dropper of the morning dew
He knew the plants the birds and trees
he even knew the flowers and the bees
And all around him life seem to be in bloom
And though he was bestowed with a mighty gift,
He could not foresee his doom
Now it came to pass on a warm spring day,
Oh, I believe it was the twelfth of May,
Sweet Sally Fair had beckoned him to go
And play his tune down at the local market.
And so he went and drew his bow and fiddle there
And played a lick down in the square
For all the villagers and children passing by
And happy was the day, as sweet sally fair
Blew kisses to the Sower between the melodies he played
And the strength of their love grew in such a way
That made the stars blush with jealousy
And strolling home hand in hand
through pastures scattered across the land
They came across a wounded man
Whose eyes seemed blinded from within
In one hand he held a silver staff,
in the other a small leather satchel
from which he pulled not a whole but half
a cap, golden pale and shimmering of a silver light
"Know ye this" he said with a hiss
As he grabbed the Sower's sleeve
"Eat this bite at the stroke of midnight
And this realm thou shall leave"
And just as quickly as the hurt man appeared
He stuck the cap in the Sower's beard
And, eating one himself
Vanished into thin air
"How strange a thing" sweet sally said
As the evening sky turned shades of red
With pink and orange swaths into the distance
"Strange, indeed" said the Sower displeased that
More information had plainly not been given.
He walked sweet sally to her door
And they kissed a kiss like never before
Nor yet hereafter ever shall again
Then parted ways in the nights haze
While the Sower's head began to spin
"Leave this realm" he heard in a whisper
Yet no voice on the air could be heard
"Leave this realm" he said to himself
As he began to ponder the words
Standing on his porch the Sower looked across
The land that eastward lay
And watched as the night watch snuffed out the candles
of the temple across the way
"Midnight" he said and glancing down
Saw the silvery shimmering crown
Of the cap peeking through his beard
And now, without an ounce of hesitation
Plucked it hence,
And swallowed the cap whole.
He wondered had he been too hasty
And whether he should have taken the time to taste it
When the fractals began to form and take hold
Now this is where the tale gets stringy
And I admit it does sound dingy
Tho this is but a tale from long ago
But it's said he vanished and reappeared
Tho it took him almost a year
And when he came back his eyes were hollow and cold
Aged he was, almost 30 years it seemed
To everyone who discussed it at their tables
Thus, the Sower became the source of many future fables
And many gathered from all around
To hear of the mysterious silver crown
And the tale of tears the Sower told in the dale
For all his long years he searched for his sweet sally fair
And when he returned, she was not there
Nor ever was as far as anyone could tell
Everyone was asked, and everyone double
Yet no one had a clue.
Her house was there,
but in her place a lady not so fair
and married with seven wild children too!
He could not breathe
There was no air
No one had ever heard of
Sweet sally fair
After battling through many a harrowing adventure
Tho many remain Untold
His love, his life now only exists
In the waning memories of old
It is said that long ago
The Sower died with his fiddle and his bow
Always searching for sally, sweet and fair
And to this day
you can still hear him play
Upon the breeze that flows through the square
Fin
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