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Somewhere in the golden dusk a tawny owl calls
From another direction wooden wind chimes makes a dull sound
Over at the pub there’s cherry voices
Comforting homely noises
I lean against the ancient stone wall
Exhaustion pulling me to the ground
I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a minute

~I’m awakened by a trumpet~

Over the hill comes the crest of a centurions helmet
The air fills with the sound of marching feet
The rattle and clang of weapons and armour
I scramble for my bow and arrows
They fill the air like a flock of sparrows
The romans have come to another tribe uprising meet
Certain their might will make them the victors

©RedCat

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I learned the Puente form just yesterday, and as I so often do, had to write another one…