You brush aside the door of the gypsy tent. You see seated behind a large crystal ball an old gypsy lady. She speaks " cross my palm with silver, and have a seat ... hush child I know what you seek. " ""Ah yes "" she says after her orders are met "I see things....." Things that fight, Things that fear. Things that hold,\ You close my dear. Things of pleasure to sustain, When there is not but pain. These things you can hold, But none of them are gold. "But what are they" you stammer as she looks up at you with a frown. This pertains Be it to man, beast, or Kings, Jewels, weapons, or music one sings. Fair, fey, or foul, Find them all. DO IT NOW You had been studying that crystal ball as she said the last. Looking up to ask one more question you find she is gone. You get up and walk from the tent turning at the last minute your curiosity unsatisfied. The tent is gone you blink turning around the rest of the fair is there. You shake your head as a feeling of anxiety hits you, was it a riddle from the gods? D.M. Purnell Oct.7,2003