VelvetBlue_art on Nostr: So, my Husband is a fairly skilled poet. He's a Nerd's dream poet. I wanted to share ...

So, my Husband is a fairly skilled poet.
He's a Nerd's dream poet.
I wanted to share one here to show him how kind you can all be.

This one is about his 45 years playing DnD with his friends.
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Forty-Five Years at the Table
By CJB

It began with dice in a shoebox,
graph paper stained with cola and lore,
a rulebook borrowed,
half-understood and wholly sacred.

We slayed our first goblin
with pencils sharpened like swords,
our heroes drawn not by artists,
but by calloused hands and imagination.

The tables changed—
wooden in basements, plastic in halls,
digital when the world demanded distance—
but the ritual never broke.

I have been kings and cutthroats,
dragons and doomed gods,
a farm boy with a rusted spear
and a lich with nothing left to lose.

Dice still tumble like bones of fate,
and the map—wrinkled, rewritten, burned—
is still mine to walk.
Not with my feet, but with memory.

I’ve watched friends age,
some vanish like characters
who fell in dim-lit catacombs
and never returned for pizza.

Forty-five years.
Laughter, heartbreak,
midnights where time forgot to tick.
And still I play,
because in those moments
I am not fading—
I am becoming.