Do you I know from long ago,
beneath a tree that did sway so,
to and fro with the wind,
to which ladies all would send,
their children to your feet,
to listen to your voice so sweet,
as you told, and they did believe,
your stories they never wished to leave.

They sat unmoving on the ground,
and eyes would never turn around,
only stare into your own,
as ears would listen to your tone,
that filled their minds and imaginations,
as you told of distant nations,
where kingdoms ruled and magic flowed
and fair princesses whose faces glowed.

Not unlike your own I see,
as you stand before me,
a beauty I could not compare,
and like the children I do stare,
and listen closely to your voice,
contently though almost without choice,
and visions form inside my head,
changing with all that is said.

What magic have you to mesmerize,
within your voice and in your eyes,
that fills my mind with distant lands,
and knights who take maidens' hands,
in castles before honored kings,
as all around a soft voice sings,
and then I see the face to fit,
as before me I see you sit...