The sun still shineth on this here fair day, as poor Maiden's thoughts do drifteth away.
To a time gone back on which she was sworn, on another Knight's love from which she was torn.
For years he kept her hidden away in a room. Every day she waited, inside this living tomb.
Praying that this be the day he came for her well, and no longer her love, a secret not to tell.
 But alas, he did keep to his old, brood mare, who kept fortunes running and brought decent fare.
Alas, poor Maiden, only love and youth could she bring. No pence were offered for the songs she could sing.
Knight promised of't he'd come for her one day, but Maiden could not wait, lest her hair turn to grey.
So Knight turned her out to the streets on her own, where she wondered about, as she had no home.
Strangers offered poor maiden a place to stay, for they knew she had no pence for which to pay.
They accepted few services of which she could bring, and reveled in all the songs she could sing.
Poor Maiden has wrote many songs from this pain, and wonders if Knight ere thinks of her again?
Poor Maiden paints as the sun rises each day, and prays for a knight who will love her one day. 

June, 4 2021 (poem written years prior by Joy Chapman)

When you're holding life's cards, do you know what the river will be? Before you lay all your chips down, better take a check and see. 

Are you going to raise life and see destiny? Are you ready to match fate, no matter what the blind may be? So remember now, Life's a gamble each and every day. Even when you're winning, there's a rake to pay. Life deals you your whole cards, it's your choice to play or fold. You have to put your ante out, no matter which way you go. 

So dealer now, flop those cards down, then turn them over. Let's see that's floating down that river.  Did I play my cards right, now that the game is over?

My tears fell to a stained-glass window, I felt the warmth of the sun breaking through.  A rainbow formed, a prism through my tears. Shall I find gold at last in the ends of the rainbow? My darkest hours lifting to the heights of a bright new day. 

I cannot sleep, for it is my dreams that keep me awake.  As a lion waiting for its prey, I must keep poised lest opportunity slip away.  I hear though, that there is nothing new under the sun. But my mind keeps searching, surely there must be one. Or how can my fortunes be made, if there is nothing new to offer? 

My tears fall once again to the stained-glass window, darkness of the night and no rainbows to glisten.  Though tired, I may never sleep, even till the end of time.  Rainbows will form again and I will still search once more for life's elusive pot of gold.