Below is a poem I composed for my latest project, a fantasy book called Tales of Silverbell Wood, which is currently in progress and being greatly enjoyed by an eager audience of two children aged 7 and 5 (with a toddler clamoring to join). It is called Joar's Hall.
The mead in Joar’s Hall will flow
When storms are raging down below,
And when the mountain caps are white
We’ll be all snug and warm at night.
A weary traveler’s retreat,
A place to share some bread and meat –
Be welcome, guests of Joar’s Hall!
There’s food and featherbeds for all.
O friendly keep! Thy lights do shine
And speak of times to rest and dine.
The winds may blow, the snow may fall –
It’s always safe in Joar’s Hall.