My name, among others, is Taliesin. And the story that I am about to tell, may well, be fable.Though if you then challenge my account and say, that this must surely be happening today,Then I would not deny such synchronicity. The tale I sing, [Taliesin].....is set in one place without time.Also here and there this very night ,sublime. Read on....

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Amidst the still, serene, is found oh sacred heart of Cymru's verdant green

Cloaked in mists of magick dormant, and unseen.

Where princes, warriors, poets once walked, reclined, and some say wander still.

Where Merlin stood against the reign, a boy they thought no good.

For in his youth he strode the hills with sword and breath of fire.

Now? Now the years are none so kind, passion doth too often, turn to ire.

From sharpening sword, to rapier wit, transform emit, and transpire.

This charming man, tempered still, contemplating and retired... neath Eryri's mighty cloak.

There came one day, yes around May, a wanderer of sorts. Seeking fortune and escape, Nimue was her name.

Oh hair of Raven black and lips so devils red. A smile which could charm the frosted cherry blossom to bloom.

This girl of twenty five would turn but every head when entering a room.

In a glade, by the stream that cascades down Wyddfa's dream, they met and fell in love.

He the sage that she desired and hers the youth again.

Oh how they rose and fell. Pray not here to tell,

The ecstasy, the pain.

Seared within laconic mortal refrain.

For more than eighteen months their hearts were joined as she learned both dark and light, to each of their delight.

Come marry me, if only.

The years between mocked, defied, tempted and cursed these happy,happy hearts.

But all things come to an end for mortals such as they may be.

We learn, live and die. We sigh and children almost pass us by. What drives us all, on what we stand or fall, is love, ambition and the answer to it all.

How much is really planned? Defencelss against the waves on thrones of sand.

Eventually, youth must ebb for having learned so much.

Nimue tired of snow donned peaks, terrain replete,

With sadness in her heart she made her plans to depart but took with her the book.

The grimoire of the ages as she thought...to set her on her way, briefly then she did look back to see once mighty Merlin fey.

For words in line do not convey, the hidden truth behind.

He knew at once, not overlooked, time would not so easy heal nor secrets there reveal.

They wrote each other...often.

Once satyric kinetic streams now trickle apologetically over rocks, not frothing forth, o'er waterfall, and crashing deep in pools of  shattered glass.

When death himself is stayed the end outplayed, an absence, transfer of desire.

With learning comes age, and although no longer mighty, Merlin still the sage.

Whilst flesh and fancy in perpetum fade, love can live preserved.

To haunt, enchant, throughout the halls eternal palacades.

Encased within this sanctuary he set,

To leave some piece of shattered heart.

Amongst the beauty sweet and pure, secure, enmeshed, demure.

He weaved a gossamer fine around all supine, a cauldron of the true.

Added words of power diverse, woven into the field of gold tween cerulian blue.

And there it lies, eternally,a spell of lascivious power.

That those of you who seek it out, may stumble, triumph and devour.

Their ghosts still walk, on Autumn nights and sit together in the moonlight chill.

Imbibing herbs and talking words

Listening to the wind whisper to the hill......I love you still.