When I was young I looked up to the sky
And saw the far-off stars as points of light
That sparkled as they slowly drifted by
To fill my eyes and spirit with delight.
	I sat, earthbound, and watched them through the night,
	Not knowing what those distant lights might be
	Or what they thought when they looked down at me.
	
As years went by I climbed the mountain peak;
I leaped and climbed and, in due time, I flew
So high above the clouds that I might seek
An audience with stars so bright and true.
	The wonder of my boyhood only grew
	When I learned that the beauty of a star
	Is greater still up close than from afar.

This was inspired by the Queens I have met, and the privilege of knowing them.

A lady’s hand is fine and fair,
But I find more than beauty there:
That hand may craft or strike a blow,
Point out the way the wise should go,
Fly up with joy or fold in prayer.

A mannish paw, strong like a bear,
With roughened skin and beastly hair,
Has hidden grace that it may show
A lady’s hand.

On bended knee, this oath I swear,
And to all men and God declare
That all the wealth I’ll ever know
Can’t match the ring that I bestow
Upon a treasure far more rare:
A lady’s hand.

When I was young my heroes were like gods,
Without a flaw, unable to do wrong,
But slowly I learned things that were at odds
With what I had envisioned all along.
  The cracks showed in the walls I'd thought were strong,
  And shook my faith in all that I had known;
  Their feet were only clay, not solid stone.

There were those also whom I did despise,
Who friends and family taught me to deride,
Until I saw them through another's eyes
Or heard the tales told from the other side.
  My narrowed eyes were slowly opened wide,
  And as the years went marching by I learned
  To see the virtues of those I had spurned.

The simple way I saw things in my youth,
With dark and light split up like night and day,
Still tempts me with uncomplicated truth,
Though black and white are now all shades of gray.
  This twilight makes it hard to find my way,
  And now my feet go slow where once they flew,
  But age and wisdom make each step more true.

Each time my Queen is on the field
The Royal arms are lifted high.
The ancient bloodline stands revealed
Each time my Queen is on the field.
She draws Her sword, she bears Her shield,
And goes forth, unafraid to die;
Each time my Queen is on the field
The Royal arms are lifted high!

Written in honor of HRM Sorcha Heronchaser of Meridies, and all other Queens who share the joy of the battlefield.

I heard a tapping at my door
And sat quite still and silently,
As startled as a rabbit for
I had no inkling who might be
Beyond that portal, barred and locked.
What face out there, that I might see?
Who stood without and loudly knocked?
The tax man come to take his due?
The comely lass with whom I’d talked?
A noble and his retinue?
A criminal with greedy grin?
These things and more went racing through
My mind as I stayed safe within
This shuttered home, this castle keep,
Protected from what might have been.
The noise that wakened me from sleep
Was gone as fast as it had come,
Returning me to silence deep.
My nerves, they jangled, then went numb;
I watched the door, but saw no clue
Of where my visitor was from,
Or why they made the journey to
Arouse me from my evening’s rest.
The fear I felt before now flew,
My heart slowed down within my chest,
And left me only with regrets
That I’d not risen to this test.
Could I be like the man who sets
His sail to go out on the sea
And seize its bounty with his nets,
Though he knows not what there might be
Among the fish in shining heaps
With spines to prick him, stealthily?
The clutching miser only keeps
What money he had at the start,
And, since he sows not, never reaps
The rich rewards that risk imparts
To those who bravely venture out.
I sit alone and guard my heart,
With loneliness I banish doubt,
But treasures I will never find
If I have no one else about.
So safety I must leave behind,
And bet my coin on something more.
Put on my shoes, make up my mind,
And set sail for a distant shore,
As I come knocking at your door.

I bend my knee before my lord,
Or at a lovely lady’s feet,
To take her hand with kisses sweet,
To give the king my loyal sword;
For them a knee I can afford.
But now I stand and shall not yield,
Though you have caused my blood to flow
With savage strike and mortal blow;
The bards may say you won the field,
But none may claim that I have kneeled.

I smile when my true love’s face is in sight
And touch her hand to know that she is there.
I warm her feet with mine each winter’s night
Since first we ever had a bed to share.

Each day I see her waking with the dawn
And as we tuck our children into bed.
Day by day, together we go on,
By promises and rings forever wed.

Yet when we are apart I shed no tear,
Nor sadly sigh, nor lie all night awake;
No distance is so great that I might fear
That our love would stretch thin enough to break.

No matter how far I am from my bride,
I know that she is always by my side.

This was written for my wife on our 15th wedding anniversary, when she was out of town.

My lady’s heart seems to be carved from stone
Too adamant to mark with any tool;
I sweetly speak, abide by every rule,
And still, at evening’s end, I am alone.

What have I done? For what must I atone?
I give a dance, a glance, a shining jewel,
Yet though she smiles and dances, this poor fool
Has not the means to make her heart his own.

But no, it is no stone, it is the sea,
So beautiful, so boundless, and so deep.
Upon its waves a man must boldly sail
To distant lands of gilded mystery
And bring back naught but what it lets him keep;
No man can own the sea, only the tale.

A colony of ants has but one queen
And all the drones act only by her word;
Disloyalty is nowhere to be seen,
No grumble of complaint is ever heard.
  The faith of ant in queen is swiftly spurred
  By simple nature all throughout the hill;
  Can it be found in men who have free will?

Why should a man submit to one above
To follow orders calmly with a smile?
When ties are close, he may serve out of love,
But what about the endless rank and file?
  The lure of money may work for a while,
  But soon enough that sweet taste will go sour
  And purses will run dry that purchase power.

The ant knows in his heart the queen is true
And never would she contemplate deceit;
With such strong faith he works the whole day through
Or goes to battle, never to retreat.
  Though there are rules, a man knows he can cheat,
  And so suspects all others may as well;
  This taints his faith like poison in a well.

So what, then, is the cure for this distrust?
What balm is there to soothe the burning doubt?
The man who wishes to be followed must
In every action take the highest route.
  To earn the faith of men and gather clout
  By promises kept day by day until
  His honor grows high like the ant-queen's hill.

To lead or follow well, each is the same,
Though one is at the top and one below;
Each keeps faith and brings honor to his name,
And with each word and deed his fealty shows.
  For fealty goes both ways, as wise men know:
  The queen alone can't have her will fulfilled;
  A single ant won't know what he should build.