The Old World

It was a warm summer's eve, in the year before last

The moon hung low in the sky.

Together they watched the stars dance in the heavens

When the blazing fire's light caught in his eye.

The eyes of gold, glinting with laughter

From all the wonderful things he had seen.

Her eyes the color of a long gone spring's violet

Paler than pale, no sweeter flower there's been.

Together they sang of all that is good

They sang the old song of the earth.

With music, dance, and laughter nothing could go wrong

When they sang of love, peace, and mirth.

Then the boy and the girl started a dance

They moved with its intricate pattern.

She swung on a star; he leapt to the moon

A jig that we all should learn.

Then they ran together into the bracken

Through a forest of crimson and gold.

Autumn had taken root in this forest

And joined them in the dance and song of old.

Now winter had come, come at last

But the snow did not dampen their cheer

Instead it joined in their heavenly dance

Perfection was so near.

But behold! Disaster struck in their safe little haven

People forgot the rhythm of the dance and the beat of the song.

No longer cared about the beauty

They said it took to long.

So quickly, quickly the old ways left

Forgotten, to wither in the past.

To make way for machinery and speed

No one remembered the summer before last.

But there were still the small, small few

Who still sang the song and danced the dance.

They wanted to remember the old, old ways

And smell the roses, if they had a chance.

His eyes were the green of all of the plants

Like in the forest in which he played.

Her eyes were the color of a summer's sky

By machines such a blue has never been made.

They both swung on stars and leapt to the moon

Always remembering the dances' weave.

They flew with the birds and ran with the wind

But from the forest they'd never leave.

Because, outside, the world was still in a race

To see who'd come out on top.

The days of old were just a myth!

Running always faster, the future wouldn't stop.

Never stopped to smell a flower.

Never stopped to look at the sky.

Never thought of anyone but themselves.

Never looked anyone in the eye.

So the years slipped through their fingers

Never sung a note.

But those two people never stopped dancing

They still hoped against all hope.

That one day the others would see

What fools they had been.

That one day that they would

Smell a flower again.

That day is not here just yet.

I don't think it will be for some time.

But there are still the small, small few

Who think life is just sublime.

I still dance the dance

I still sing the song

When will you join in with me?

Please don't take to long.