Before you read this, I would like you to see what was in my mind while I was writing it. Imagine a young girl who is six or seven years old. It is set in Civil War, her father and brothers are off fighting and its just she and her mom. She wants to forget about the present, so she climbs up into her mom’s lap and asks her to tell her a story. Her it is.
Tell Me a Story, Sing Me a Song (a Prose)
Tell me a story, sing me a song, tell me how things used to be before it all went wrong.
When flowers bloomed without effort and children danced for joy, when innocent blood wasn’t spilt over greed and children didn’t go fatherless. Or was there ever such a time?
Then Mamma pulled me closer, and murmured in my ear, “Baby just close your eyes, and I’ll tell you a story, sing you a song, tell you how things used to be before it all went wrong. There were men who worked during the day, women in big aprons who swept the floors, and children who would play in the woods. And though during the day they were apart, when the sun would begin to set, the men would put on their hats and say ‘Good day’, the women would take off their aprons and the children would go home. And it was by the fireplace that the families would gather and worship their Beautiful Creator.”
As I drifted off to sleep in my Mother’s arms, the shaking of the earth and the ever present gunshots and blood curdling screams faded, as Mamma, told me a story, sang me a song, told me how things used to be, before it all went wrong.
I hope you enjoyed it!!!