My weary feet felt not strong..
So at the next inn i rested my feet..
Beers galore did i drink..
When he sat down i barely saw..
His voice a song, pure but a little raw..
His stories he told me lots and more..
A colporteur and a gentleman he seemed to the fore..
Before i knew i was shelling out quid..
The beer got to me or his voice did..
The oeuvre of an artist he made seem great..
Of i curse that wicked twist of fate..
Next in line was a bony lass..
She seemed beautiful , drunk as i was..
To a dance and maybe in the hay a roll..
I decided with her to gambol..
The only hiccup i didnt dream of ever..
Was her beefy boyfriend, a jealous lover..
Two black eyes and a lot less richer..
I left that inn wanting one more pitcher..
To this day i silently ponder..
Which stars shined down in all its splendour..
What syzygy of planets and moons mystical..
Took me by storm in an evening magical..