In days of yore, truth is lost in time’s endless stream,

In worlds both old and new, truth is lost in an instant, misplaced,

The truth exists. Prejudice thrives in every time, everywhere, in every place,

In tales never heard, never told, the truth we can not find

So shall I tell in verses a truth, neither yours, neither mine.

Of a quaint village, a tale I will tell to last through time.

In yesterday and today, only in the telling, is the only seen.

Arabella was born, meek in stature, yet, her spirit bold,

in this village, nestled ‘neath hills, this babe, baseborn grew,

Of humble parents, yet her heart was pure, kind, and true.

To diminish her, “Baseborn” they never failed to remind,

so Arabella grew, modestly, amidst rolling hills and skies so wide,

Shamed by others, yet her spirit soared, knowing she had nothing to hide.

Baseborn, to understand prejudice, a story in layers, needs to be told.

In circumjacent forests, Arabella, friendless and alone, often would stray,

The innocence of a child, unaware, she remained as pure as a crystal brook,

In the village, the judgmental gaze, she did not see because she did not look,

Wicked words, the stories, in truth, or in rumors, she let none enter her mind,

Due to their rejection, her sole companions, the birds, the trees, nature’s grace,

In the wild, free from hate, she found her joy, in herself she found her sacred space.

Amongst rustling leaves and gentle beasts, as a child, content, she would play.

Her heart’s fire grew strong, and her truth burned with a radiant sheen.

Yet, “Avaunt – go away,” they, weakened by their small minds, jeered and sneered,

But Arabella had a soul that was strong, in grace, she grew, unafeared,

With courage, she took her place amongst the crowd, she would not be left behind.

In the village, in the place of learning, they placed upon her, a cap that jesters adorned,

On her young head, an attempt to weaken, to teach her a lesson, the message she’d scorned.

In their class-consciousness, to control, to eliminate grace, they sought to demean.

And in the play, the children would laugh, “Avaunt – go away!” their words would command,

And she would cry, with rooster’s crest, upon her head, called fool, to strip her grace,

But Arabella knew truth, though to fools she could not tell it. She knew her rightful place,

In Grace her strength, and truth she knew, neither by their words nor others’ tales, defined.

Her value was not to be found in the shadow of Dandy’s grace, Coxcomb’s vain attire,

But in the heart of truth, found in her heart, her spirit, her soul’s true desire.

Arabella stood firm, Grace she knew and would proclaim, Truth would not be left behind,

Yet in memories, inscribed upon her head, still remained the stain of prejudice, this cap,

to forget she found solace as she roamed the surrounding forest’s embrace,

Where leaves rustled softly, in solitude, surrounded by grace, the heavens set the pace,

She ran through the wilds, flying with the birds, Bells would jingle as she ran, She didn’t mind,

In her world peace was found in the grace of truth. Here her heart found its song,

In this tranquil haven, Under the watchful eye of God is where she truly belonged.

Her spirit soared, no prejudice, no false truths. Her knowledge, their education could not sap,

Yet still when they found her, “Go away, baseborn wench!” they cried with glee,

She took her place amongst the crowd, and in the face of their bias, boldly proclaimed,

“By class consciousness, by your prejudice, I will not be maimed,

not by your stories, your rumors, your tales, No pretentious fool, no strumpet am I!”

Like a rooster’s crest, she wore the coxcomb with pride, she held her head up high and crowed!

They meant it to shame, but the Coxcomb, a cap for jesters, became her crown to hold,

Amongst the crowd, in the village square, Arabella stood firm, bold in her defiance, and free.

She stood in this quaint village, nestled ‘neath hills, where diversity failed to thrive.

If only to end here, but victory is only for a day. The next, an ambuscade, a plan did unfold,

A group of rapscallions, taught well in the place of learning, with hearts cruel and cold,

planned to take her down, rob her of grace, steal her crown, and in the forest, bind

Ever watchful, she saw through the lie “I shan’t be ambushed by the likes of you,

I’m baseborn, yes, but given grace I have been given eyes to see the truth and my spirit’s true!”

See her alone in the wild, in your mind’s eye, a young child’s spirit, undeniably alive,

In grace-given power, her countenance shone, for Arabella knew her worth, her truth,

and in the truth of grace, the darkness repelled, and in the end, the rapscallions did retreat,

God’s grace and truth helped Arabella through the spirit, to find her strength and evil defeat.

If only to end here, but victory is only for a day. Arabella wanted to fly away but years passed by

Time wears at the soul, but Arabella, in her solitude, continued to stand tall,

She tried to be brave, to be A testament to the strength that is within us all.

She believed in her truth, that no prejudice could steal her inner youth.

Finding she could not fly away, deeper into the woods, as a young woman she yearned,

and there she found a hidden path, a way away, but it was claimed by the thief and spy,

Unbeknownst to her, this path was not her path to take, on this path, mischief did lie.

Yet having grown weary, she forgot grace. She declared to herself, “This new path is mine.”

She journeyed down the path into the darkness. Rapscallions in shadows, they did conspire,

not just to humiliate or scorn, forever maim, removed of grace, branded by fire,

Fortuitously, grace, though we may ignore it, is truth everlasting, this tale takes a fateful turn,

Realizing that the light of truth in her still burned, “Go away, baseborn wench!” they cried,

for they could torment but not defeat, “Avaunt!” they shouted, faces cruelly gleamed,

But Arabella’s spirit, renewed by grace in truth reborn, brightly beamed,

nonsensical notions taught to the masses, to control, the village truths, she did defy,

Against these odds, the lies, She stood unyielding, her resolve steadfast,

In the face of torment, only if she allowed it, could it harm, she’d not be harassed.

Though their intentions were dark, by God’s grace their hearts’ intent was denied.

In Arabella, the grace of God was a hidden power, burning strong and bright,

Though baseborn, found in prejudice to be of no worth, in the village’s judging gaze,

She’d stand her ground, proclaiming God’s truth, unyielding in her ways.

Wanting to fly, but not away, she began to soar, like a bird in the sky.

Not easily branded by tales, rumor, or truths, ever free she would be,

Against true coxcombs, the village idiots, the fools who sought to bow her knee,

She held a courage that defied the shadows of the night.

With a lion’s roar, in the midst of her flight, her voice cut through the air,

To the villagers, she cried, “I shan’t be ambushed by the likes of you,”

Her words, burned them like fire, her resolve, with veracity, showed true,

She found her inner power, in God’s grace to soar ‘neath the open sky.

Her unwavering resolve, to know the truth, to speak the truth, a hidden might,

Just as it struck chords within the rapscallions’ hearts that night,

In truth by God’s grace, defiant, unwavering, her spirit rare.

With this courage fierce, to the world, her voice did rise,

A voice of power, her words, a thunderclap, fierce and loud,

Disarmed, the rapscallions of the world became a humbled crowd,

She lashed out at the face of false judgment’s eye,

and the villagers, young and old, slunk away, tails ‘tween their legs, they did flee,

Defeated by her courage, flying high, now in truth of grace she was truly free

She defied their malice, their tales, their teaching, their mocking cries,

From that day forth, her path was wherever her heart by grace in truth was led,

For she had learned that prejudice only confines those who agree to be played

No coxcombs, no insults, her spirit, her mind, by their lies unswayed,

Undeterred by the lessons of the past, the lessons they continue to teach, lessons unkind,

The memories could not hold her down, down her chosen path, Arabella, ever did roam,

With a voice of power, in truth, she taught others, new lessons. She found her home,

The prejudice that they claimed would define her, was defeated by the verity in words she said.

The power of one’s heart is undefeated when given the voice of grace, even in youth.

Arabella, a brave girl, baseborn, a girl with a voice so grand,

of humble birth, with a power to inspire, to help you understand,

that you and I, through grace, we too, can overcome, we can touch the sky.

When freed from the village, our strength lies within, in each heart’s beat,

In our courage to speak the truth, to defy the lessons learned, and the truth we repeat.

An enduring lesson, only in the telling, is the only seen in tales of truth.

Be that symbol of strength in grace and in truth in the village’s sight,

Arabella’s tale, I tell in verses, a truth, neither yours, neither mine, a beacon in the dark,

Let it be your tale, a hidden power, shinning bright, an unwavering spark,

The truth exists even in tales, and stories, all it takes is a resilient mind.

to find the truth hidden amongst the lies, undaunted by judgments, by hatred’s cruel stare,

Stand tall and resolute, be like Arabella for none can compare.

Arabella’s spirit, in time, in tales, may it shine like a radiant light.

In this day, as in yesterday prejudice, exists in every time, in every place, everywhere,

and in tomorrow, until the day of grace comes to a close, all can be shown,

Even In the face of class-consciousness, true worth, only the individual soul can own

This truth exists in a world without grace, the fool defies truth, and ever in prejudice confined.

Not to be found in the village halls, long kept in the dark, this lesson, brought to light is seen,

Of this enduring truth, lacking grace, the world is cruel, people are mean,

You will find no peace, no home, in the village, but the grace of the spirit is ever ours to share.

In the face of torment, like Arabella, we can stand tall and free,

in our courage, speaking in truth, Our voice is power, there is no need to retreat,

In this world within ourselves, by the grace of God, we are complete.

As a symbol of truth, a humble verse in rhyme may this tale bring sight to the blind

to teach that hat unity in spirit, above all, power through grace we hold,

In the face of adversity, our strength is in the truth spoken together we’re bold.

a fancy story, a rhyme, s symbol of the victory that’s found in the soul of you and me.