A gold stone lay on the ground,

And very soon, it would be found.

The forest trail began to sound.

A scribe en route was wandering down.

A single sunbeam glanced over the stone

And blinded the scribe as he thumbed through his tome.

He pushed through the brush, grabbed up the stone

And stared as its crimson lettering shone.

The cryptic writing upon the stone

Was not a language he'd ever known.

The scribe was a poor man but with this new treasure

He knew he could provide for his wife forever.

He would have time to teach, write for himself,

Help his whole village to prosper in health.

Of all the dreams that welled in his chest

The thought of having children seemed best.

Packing the stone, he started back home

But he did not know that he wasn't alone.

Two boys above, sat in a tree,

Silent and thrilled, they held back their glee.

They hurried to town and told all their friends.

Word of the stone had started to spread.

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