Such a warm aroma,
Of burning wood, fills the air.
A soft sultry mood,
Wafts from the Celtic music,
Playing in the background.
Skins of animals adorn the walls,
Alongside the yolk.
And around the room floating,
Such periodic gentle folk.
Enrique in his kindly way,
Directs from the bar,
As hot food is brought,
Fit for a King,
And many a merry knight.
The skillets roasting a feast,
Catch a sense of desire in me,
For a time gone by.
When all was so simple,
And friendship was valued,
Higher than gold.
And when I, as a knight errant,
Roamed these lands,
Protecting the pilgrims.
Foncebadon
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