Photo by Highlander
What she heard, at first, was his singing. Late on a moonlit night, she would hear a sweet tenor voice, the notes wafting over the valley, then dropping into her canyon like snowflakes in early spring. One night, she took Mars, her Wolfhound, and headed up the canyon along the stream to find the troubadour himself.
She did not expect to find him in the King's keep. He could not see her in the shadows below the tower, so she stood for hours, listening to sad ballad after sad ballad. Finally, as the sky began to lighten, she headed back down the canyon.
The next day she inquired of the people in the village, and discovered that he had been imprisoned by the King for failure to pay taxes. This, surely, could be remedied. Such a man with such a voice deserved his freedom. She gained permission to see him the following day. When she and the jailor finally reached the top of the tower, she found a young man as handsome as she was beautiful.
"I can pay your taxes, set you free," she told him without preamble.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because your songs should not be imprisoned here."
"I cannot take your charity," he told her, not with pride, but with a humble integrity, a strength of will that seemed as strong as his arms appeared. She looked into his deep green eyes.
"Then you will repay me by singing at my wedding."
He agreed. And it was only after he was released, and he came to find her to thank her, that he learned she was not engaged. At least, not for long....
And so he did sing in her wedding... and to her, softly, on their wedding night.
~ S. Kay Murphy
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!
If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.
9 comments:
Actually that is pretty much what I do here: http://storiestalesandmore.blogspot.com/
=)
I felt like I could reach up and touch the clouds. They were hovering so near the top of me and felt tangible for the very first time. If I stretched myself just a little bit more, I'm sure I would be in the midst of the clouds. Able to touch them. A goal. One I've always wanted. I've almost made it.
Yes, I like your site very much storyteller. But perhaps on occasion a prompt or picture here might inspire as well. Don't you just love all the creative outlets available to us with the internet? :) I sure do. Glad to have you visiting here as I will be visiting you regularly as well.
:) Laura Jayne
Denise... so glad to welcome you here and to have you share such wonderful writing. I love the hope of your piece. Reaching for the clouds is a wonderful metaphor for so much else... and a worthy goal on its own.
Laura Jayne
What she heard, at first, was his singing. Late on a moonlit night, she would hear a sweet tenor voice, the notes wafting over the valley, then dropping into her canyon like snowflakes in early spring. One night, she took Mars, her Wolfhound, and headed up the canyon along the stream to find the troubadour himself.
She did not expect to find him in the King's keep. He could not see her in the shadows below the tower, so she stood for hours, listening to sad ballad after sad ballad. Finally, as the sky began to lighten, she headed back down the canyon.
The next day she inquired of the people in the village, and discovered that he had been imprisoned by the King for failure to pay taxes. This, surely, could be remedied. Such a man with such a voice deserved his freedom. She gained permission to see him the following day. When she and the jailor finally reached the top of the tower, she found a young man as handsome as she was beautiful.
"I can pay your taxes, set you free," she told him without preamble.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because your songs should not be imprisoned here."
"I cannot take your charity," he told her, not with pride, but with a humble integrity, a strength of will that seemed as strong as his arms appeared. She looked into his deep green eyes.
"Then you will repay me by singing at my wedding."
He agreed. And it was only after he was released, and he came to find her to thank her, that he learned she was not engaged. At least, not for long....
And so he did sing in her wedding... and to her, softly, on their wedding night.
(That one was for you, LJ!)
SK...
You have made my day. You know I love a happy ending!
LJ
Indeed, Laura! The internet have some really nice insights for inspiration. Do you know hte blog minute writer?
I'll soon write about one of your pictures, and link it to your blog. Thanks for the visiting once more!
=)
Hello there - I saw your comment on one minute writer and I popped in to tell you about how good I feel know that I am studying. I began about 3 years ago and will probably get my Humanities degree from the Open University in about 3 years time.
It's fantastic studying at a time in my life when I really want to, not when teachers and parents say I have to. I've learnt so much about literature, philosophy, architecture, fine art, music - it is stimulating and enjoyable.
I hope one day you will be able to get achieve your goals. It is always good to learn new things. :)
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