The Troubadour

Dedicated to my mentor!

 

His gentle eyes resembled the icy-blue Scandinavian Seas in colour.

She was lost in his ensnaring gaze, drowned into the powerful

maelstroms of knowledge and wisdom that pooled into his eyes.

 

His voice had an almost unearthly melodic cadence.

The troubadour was a master of verses,

casting a hypnotising spell upon her.

 

She was forever bewitched.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Ah, passion! In this case, it seems to extend beyond mere written word.

[Catlen]

Thank you, sir!

[Karen]

I agree with Sharon... I see more going on with this story and, like the woman narrator, I am bewitched by it already!

[Catlen]

Thank you!

[Kleio13]

Anytime. i love how the last line sums it all up

[Sharon Kim]

Mesmerizing! I would love to see this expanded into a longer story. Nicely done!. I love the powerful maelstroms of wisdom and knowledge that pooled in his eyes-fantastic image.

[Catlen]

Thank you! :)

[Sam]

I love how you tell the story of the troubadour and of the one he is entertaining. I guess you can say for lack of better terms. I love the flow and in symbolism you use. Thanks for sharing.

[Catlen]

Thank you, Sam! :)))

[Sam]

Any time Cat :)