Category: Poetry

Shaped Poem: Desire

Poetry 
Can
Man
Ban
   Sin?

A youth,
Uncouth,
In truth
   Begins

To think of
What he loves
From above
   In his mind;

His appetite
Is brought to light
So that he might
   Look for and find

Volition and grace
Enough to displace
Desire, and embrace
   The prudence of age.

Heart empty of strife,
He'll cleave to a wife;
The book of his life
   Will fill page by page.

Then looking back
He'll see a lack
Of song and sack
   Upon his lips.

Yet he knows
He foregoes
All of those:
   If he slips

Away
Today
He may
   Attest

Why,
I
Die
   Blessed!

This poem is written in a style similar to that used by Stephen Hawes in The Conversion of Swearers (1509) (the second poem in the collection)

Triolet: Coming Home

Poetry

I see my home but once a year
And all my family waiting there.
Through driving rain or blue sky clear,
I see my home but once a year;
Pavilions by the score appear
Where once the empty ground was bare.
I see my home but once a year
And all my family waiting there.

Written in a fit of pre-Pennsic nostalgia.

Triolet: I Saw Her Once

Poetry

I saw her once and touched her hand
And danced with her a little while.
With but a bow, no gestures grand,
I saw her once and touched her hand,
To follow gladly each command
Not from her crown, but from her smile.
I saw her once and touched her hand
And danced with her a little while.

Written for HRM Thyra Eiriksdottir of the East, with whom I danced at Pennsic when she was Princess.

Sonnets for Drachenwald 20th Year

Poetry

Recently, Countess Judith of Northumbria asked me to write a set of sonnets for the Masque she was planning for the Drachenwald 20th Year celebration. Each poem was to introduce a particular dance performance, and I was given a particular subject for each from Classical mythology and history. I had to do at least a little research for each one, which was quite educational. They were written to be performed in the following order:

  1. Gifts of the Gods
  2. Penthesilea
  3. The Loves of Aeneas
  4. The Sabine Women
  5. Rome and Carthage

Sonnet: Rome and Carthage

Poetry

When Rome was at its height of power and pride
The curse of slighted Dido reared its head;
From Carthage came a fleet upon the tide
That sought to stain the sea with Roman red.

From Sicily to Tunis and beyond
The ships of Carthage faced the legions’ might;
In time the Roman navy would respond
And bring their blades to bear with raven’s bite.

To Hannibal did Carthage next resort,
His armies fierce, with elephantine strength,
But though he could bring down a Roman fort
He was defeated by the journey’s length.

A hundred years the cycle did repeat,
Until Rome handed Carthage her defeat.

This was commissioned by Countess Judith of Northumbria for Drachenwald 20th Year, to introduce a performance of a sword dance.

Sonnet: The Sabine Women

Poetry

The men of Rome were stong; their legend grew
To strike fear in the hearts of all around.
Yet men need mates and Rome had precious few,
So they to fair Sabinium were bound.

In friendship’s guise they staged a daring raid
To bring back Sabine girls to be their brides,
But found that they would not be chattels made,
Demanding to be equals, side by side.

Sabinium rose up and rode to Rome
To take their daughters back by sword and spear;
They found the maids defending their new home
Between two armies standing without fear.

The Sabine women took charge of their lives;
They were not slaves, but willing Roman wives.

This was commissioned by Countess Judith of Northumbria for Drachenwald 20th Year, to introduce a performance of Pizochara.

Sonnet: The Loves of Aeneas

Poetry

When Troy’s great walls came crashing to the ground
Aeneas fled with father, son, and wife,
But as they ran he stopped and turned around
To see Creusa’s shade, bereft of life.

Across the sea to Carthage he then flew
And met Queen Dido, generous and fair.
Their love was great, but still Aeneas knew
That he must leave her, cursed by her despair.

Upon the shores of Latium he came,
To rule and make Lavinia his queen.
King Turnus, sword in hand, denied his claim,
But fell in war as prophets had foreseen.

Aeneas put down roots in his new home,
To father sons, a dynasty, and Rome.

This was commissioned by Countess Judith of Northumbria for Drachenwald 20th Year, to introduce a performance of Mercantia.

Sonnet: Penthesilea

Poetry

When ancient Troy was in the throes of war,
And Hector’s shining star had been brought low,
An Amazon arrived with her fair corps;
They vowed to deal the Greeks a fatal blow.

Bold Penthesilea, with shield and sturdy spear
Fulfilled her oath upon the bloody field;
She battled Ajax with no trace of fear
But in the end they both were forced to yield.

With shining helm and crimson-tinted blade
She challenged grim Achilles face to face;
The blood of Ares filled the warrior maid
Who leapt toward her foe with fearsome grace.

The two met with a clash of sharpened sword,
Though grief would be the victor’s sole reward.

This was commissioned by Countess Judith of Northumbria for Drachenwald 20th Year, to introduce a performance of Buffens.

Sonnet: Gifts of the Gods

Poetry

In time so old that gods were yet new born,
When Chaos ruled and waters round it ran,
The earth and sky were named and given form,
And there were born the beasts and birds and Man.

Prometheus brought down the gift of fire
That Men, whom he had made, could light their way.
But still they shivered in their crude attire;
Mere hides would not keep winter’s cold at bay.

Aristaeus taught Men to tend their sheep;
Demeter showed them how to till the soil.
In time the flaxen fibers would they reap,
And wool would be the prize of shearing’s toil.

Yet Man’s new growth would find its highest bloom
When wise Athena brought to them the loom.

This was commissioned by Countess Judith of Northumbria for Drachenwald 20th Year, to introduce a performance of Tesara.

Rondeau: “My heart alone”

Poetry

My heart alone knows what I’ve done:
The prizes claimed, the battles won,
The thoughts I’ve had when I’m afraid,
The secret burdens undisplayed
And hidden deep from everyone.

But as the flower seeks the sun
And shackled convicts long to run,
I curse the sins whose weight has made
My heart alone.

Yet in the gallery is one
Whose grace has made my locks undone
And for whose sake I’ve nightly prayed
To be destroyed and then remade
An honest man who need not shun
My heart, alone.

Written in response to the question “How does a lady inspire Chivalry?”