Saturday, June 13, 2009

Sir Donald Cathchern - Fighter Poem - Norse verse

Sir Donald Cathchern
fallen in Fall Crown Turney, A.S. XXX

(Norse verse)

Cast off by Celts, Cathchern wanders
Destined for Denmark, undaunted,
Where horde-friends welcome his sword-arm;
Meat and mead now his measure.
Bear-brother's heart is unburdened;
Close-held companions his comfort.

Comes a great contest: Contenders
Seeking success, skills will sharpen.
Cathchern encouraged, crown-clambers -
Tourney-bound to test his mettle.
Doughty Don dares dream of glory
Kingdom and Crown Cathchern yearns for.

Agelos advances, ever hopeful;
Donald dispatches Donwenna's sweatheart.
Likewise Llewellyn left lifeless;
Marina mourns, missing her man-son.
Just so he jousts with Sir Joseph -
Silveroak sends Donald sailing.

Donald redoubles his efforts;
Gathers more gold-horde from Gavin.
Crescent Crown now calls to Cathchern,
Bekoning bear-brother onward.
Airily approaches the Aardvark;
Loch Carron leaps - Donald's leveled.

Contest continues without him;
Donald's dreams, once bright, are dampened.
Cathchern comes to his consort;
Scannlach consoling, gives comfort.
Gone is the goal and the glory -
Brother of bears' best was bested.

-- Mistress Philippa Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal

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