Like many others, I was utterly enthralled by those books. They taught me a lot about courage and community, about living joyfully and about the rewards of working hard towards a goal. They often provided a welcome respite from the trials of youth, but the foray into the fantastical wasn't simply about escapism. In her books I also found role models that left me with an ingrained sense of strong female heroine, long before I had ever heard those three words strung together. Important stuff, that.
And those books prompted me to write poems, even though I only had a rudimentary idea of what poetry actually was at that time. In retrospect, I was writing fanfic, long before that label was coined. I'm sure I'm not the only one that was so inspired ~ there will be many songs resounding through the halls tonight in McCaffrey's honor, and much praise for the legacy that she has left behind.
RIP, dear author. Your stories were the shining stars of my childhood.
Of lands of old and days untold and masterharpers singing,
Located all in harper hall, the tower bells are ringing.
Where masters teach the children young,
The songs and how they should be sung,
And those are picked with careful eye
To ride the dragon through the sky.
With fire lizards blue and gold,
They live with music 'til they're old.
Their fingers deft, their voices sweet,
A greater sound you'll never meet,
Than those who young were taught the craft,
Though they worked hard, they also laughed,
And brought the news in form of song
So something new is going on
For those who lived across the land.
They sang the song from sand to sand
And lived their lives without a fear
Knowing they could always hear
A ballad, song or saga soon
Or barring that, they'd write a tune
To greet the multitude of ears
And carry through the many years.
I wish I lived back in the time
Of flying free and music fine.