Zadok, Elias, Cephas, and half a dozen other shepherds burrowed into their fleece vests as the fierce wind tugged on their tunics. “If only we could light a decent fire,” Elias muttered.

“Not tonight,” Zadok, chief shepherd, cautioned. “The wind is too strong. We wouldn’t be able to keep it under control even if we could light it.”

“Well then, “ Cephas lazily reached out his crook to poke a wayward lamb. “How about a story?”

“Your stories all start with the same source—a wine jug!” Another shepherd snorted.

**Inspired by another dream I had, about two years ago... I never forgot it. It needed to be written down, in some form...**

it's too late to count the sheep
it never helps me doze, let alone sleep

it's too late for anything, it's just my fate,
these past few nights have been this way,

the aching pain in restlessness
the fears when I'm alone. I am remiss

with battles of every kind
not the gory but the unwise

i'm the one who's lost and grimed
but you're the one who left my life

we had, in a way, been very good friends
from the start to the end

we understood life, or

Veni

“This is the Door of Humility, originally built in the seventh century.” The guide droned on, ignoring the muttered curses of the tall Americans who bumped their heads and the protests of the elderly who were already bent double with age. Among the later was a quiet woman with paper-white hair and gleaming onyx eyes.

She wandered away from the crowd into the Grotto of the Nativity. Underneath the elaborate tiles and plaques, it was still just a cave.

“He was born in a stable, Mara. Just think of it! A stable, like this!”

The Trader Chapter one A man stood in shadows, waiting. Waiting for whom? Passers-by would wonder. He was a mysterious, striking figure. Tall and lanky, bearing a long cloak and a hat with a peacock feather.

**This is inspired by a dream I had about a year ago-- I just found the paper on which I wrote about it, and it inspired this story. It will be a short one (read: not a novel), but I wanted to split it into more than one part so that it can have more time to fully flesh out. At the end, I will also try to get a better title, since this one doesn't quite fit. Let me know what you think, and as always, Enjoy. :) **

**Based on the story of the marriage of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, as told by Howard Pyle in The Story of King Arthur and His Knights.**

*~*~*
 

'Twas a balmy, golden autumn day

Before the stroke of noon

Camelot its winding streets bedecked

And merry players piping tunes

Beneath the walls of Camelot

Behind the cold dark stone

King Arthur paced with worried steps

About His royal throne

Beside Him stood His royal knights

Chivalrous their mien

(Note--this has nothing to do with my sister's story "The Shadowed Moon". Sorry that the titles are so similer. I tried to think of something else, but...*shrugs* Anyway...)