1304 saw Idris the Younger born under an elder tree on the Stiperstones in Rea Valley, Shropshire. It was here he spent his youth - picking berries, trampling on fairies, climbing trees, making dens, fishing and hobbing etc. He grew up surrounded by music, the wise folk in his hamlet spoke in verse and he too learnt to rythm and ryme. It wasnt until the 1600's that Idris the Younger stole away in the dead of night to discover the world.
He traveled to and fro, amongst pixy folk, the wilken, fluddes and the merry salopians but still felt somehow restless. Word of a revolution was arrising from dark London town and so for a while Idris the Younger rested away in Belize, a freindly land that required a three week arduous trip by sea. The families there were charming - happy to feed him, listen to his stories, tell him theirs and teach him their musical ways. for a time his hunger for life was quenched but it was maybe only a hundren more years until his time to leave came - he felt the ominus call of dark London town. Like an itch waiting, challenging a good scratch London beckoned.
London came to him in its time and for a time they enjoyed an amicable enough relatioship, one of compremise. But it wasnt long until cracks appeared (across roads, people buildings and stars - but that's another storey) and lif was again a strain. Idris the Younger stayed there until but 3 years ago when he returned to his hills of the Rea Valley and since have been heard great song, great stories and great laughter from all in these lands. |
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