To ride a horse when the moon is high,
down the street, to the patriots cry
Oh, how I wish it were I,
with the wind in my face on a midnight ride

To run through the streets with a fist in the air
just trying to right the things so unfair
oh, how I wish I'd been there
with loud cries of 'strike!' ringing through the whole square

To walk through the forest with a bow in my hand
wandering free, at one with the land
Oh, I really do think it'd be grand
to sing with the trees as through them I ran

Chapter the Twenty-sixth

The mourning wind assails the night
As twilight darkens around the sky
A wisp of wind across the dark
A silent wailing about the wood

So quickly the sunset fades around the bitter cold
And birds fly upon darkening sky
Of shades of blue it stretches out
Looming and still as howling wind sweeps through

The black branches waving about
Brushing against themselves in the breeze
The trunk is unmoved above the ground
And its bark black on the horizon

Your arms spread out wide as you welcome the noontime sun on your cheeks and palms. The green grass reaches out to tickle your knees and you wiggle your toes in the black seeded ground.
You lower your arms but keep smiling; listening to the birds twitter and watching the cardinals fly from tree to tree in the small copse right outside the sunkissed field. Not far away, corn sprouts and sunflowers bloom, making a beautiful picture as the sun silhouettes behind them.
The scent of springtime fills the air when you breathe in, sending a flow of joy through your body.

“It may be of your interest to know the exact location of the Quest. We have decided to hold it in the Caverns of Clearwater, and on the slopes of the Sentinel Mountain,” he said. “Also, for those of you involved in last night’s incident, your punishment will be as follows: for Jon, Timothy, and Yule, six hours on the trees; for the rest, you will be helping Mr. Barbacker in the library for six hours. That is all.”

"How beautiful upon the mountains, are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace..." Isaiah 52:7

CHAPTER THREE

I live in such a boring town
where there's never something strange
If you looked up into the sky
you'd see pigs all flying planes.

The cats down the street are lazy,
all they do is sit and talk
and the dogs are hardly better
when they take their owners on a walk

And the stores 'round here are boring too:
there's Smithy's Magic Locks,
a restaurant run by spotted owls,
and Bertha's Dancing Rocks

Against fire black and whips of flame
You stood your ground, stooped with pain
You leaned on your staff, wizened but strong
You struck his sword, mocked his thong
At last you cast him down from on high,
Morgoth's soldier; then tell me why
You lingered at that fateful moment,
Falling in a fiery torrent?
How could you, so great, the victor
Be dragged cruelly down, Mithrandir?
Friend, my friend, I am lost without you
I cannot see what I should do
You were ever there, guiding me
How can I guide, I foresee?

Chapter Six: A Miracle
Brianna shivered in the cold, January air. Nigel drew her close as they continued walking, the snow crunching beneath their feet. “Da, will we ever be able to meet in the city again?” Brianna asked.