THL Atticus Nothus

THL Atticus Nothus 

(an Englyn Penfyr)

Crown Tourney calls Atticus to Caid
     The Danse Regal for this Fall
     Pairs fighters in martial brawl.  

Bernhardr’s bruins lumber to the field
     Their fate sealed, they now slumber
     Atticus leaves them humbler.

Beorn’s dolphin arises from the sea
     Attempting to seize the prize
     That fades before his eyes.

Across the battlefield strides Christian
     Atticus isn’t rattled
     Christian is left addled.

Iron-willed Rudolph faces Atticus
     August the battle engaged
     Rudolph now exits the stage.

Crown Tourney Day is off to a great start
     Atticus with light heart gay
     Faces Ursul in the fray.

The story’s now shown in another light
     Ursul’s frightful bears smother
     Atticus' hopes asunder.      

 Atticus shakes off this turn of events
     Mave mends his heart with a kiss
     And sends him back to the list.

 Lucius’ sea-lion bounds across the field
     Atticus reels him to ground
     With blows that are swift and sound.

Vedr’s two battle goats leap at the chance
     But glancing blows will not keep
     Them off an akimbo heap

 Atticus has a rematch with the bears
     He dares them to try and snatch
     His head, but it stays attached.

Wilhelm charges Atticus like a boar
     To gore him with wicked tusks
     And leave him a hollow husk.

Mave mends what she can for Atticus’ sake
     To take to the field his plan
     And keep a’wielding rattan.

Christian sees his chance to best Atticus
     Who trusts his skills to this test
      From his grasp victory is wrest.

One more fight just for fun ~ he greets Jamal
     And beats the eagle in flight
     Tho the clash gives Mave a fright.

The day is done and the Victor has won.
     Contenders home from the fray.
     On balance, quite a fine day.


     ~Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler
     ...Weaver of words and wadmal
 

Englyn Penfyr for Rudolph Fekter

 

Englyn Penfyr for Rudolph Fekter

Crown Tourney Day brings forth Caidan’s best

          To test their skills and mettle,

          All fighters in fine fettle.

 

A baron from far reaches strikes a pose

          ‘Gainst foes who heed battle’s cry

          Alas Rudolph gets the Bye.

 

Unfazed, he strides forth to fight Alsander

          This land to rule is the prize

          And shine in Amecia’s eyes.

 

Butterfly and reremouse clash in the air

          A daring battle ensues

          The baron is loath to lose.

 

Amecia tends to Rudolph’s grievous wounds

          And soon he’s fit for battle

          His spirit never rattled.

 

Notus Atticus, a balanced fighter

          To smite Rudolph is his quest

          Rudolph takes his final rest.

 

Crown Tourney advances without Rudolph

          Who’s doffed his armor and helm

          To watch who will rule this realm.

Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler ~ weaver of words and wadmal

Duke Sven Orfhendur ~ Fall Crown '23

Duke Sven Orfhendur

 

(Englyn Penfyr)

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Loth to leave his leafy shade

    Thwacks Yasuke with his blade.

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Spies the stalwart fighter Paul

    Strikes a blow to make him fall.

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Three black swans come sailing by

    Arland's gaggle forced to fly.

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Sven's chances now are slimmer

    He's knocked down by Thorgrimmr.

 

 The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Shakes his head and up he goes

    Ready for more battle blows.

    

 The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Gouttes of blood bedeck the field

    Killian's fate has now been sealed.

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Tryyggr, who would be the king

    Makes Sven's doughty helmet ring.

 

The orfhend sloth hangs from a mighty tree:

    Sven Orfendur earned his rest

    Tourney day was just the best!

 

--Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...is a 15th century Burgundian wool merchant who thinks she's a 10th century Viking weaver.

One More

 Setting Pen to Paper

(The travels of William Pen of Guin)
(a silly poem)

What's black and white and red, you say?
A penguin in the heat of day.
Although he likes a cooler clime,
He bides in Careg Wen a time.

To view the choosing of the one
Who'll be the shire's champion.
As well. to see the one whom fate
Will pick to be protectorate.

He thinks our customs rather odd
(He's also been to Sothron Gaard),
So he has come to have a look.
When he gets home, he'll write a book:

A travelog for any pen
Who someday, too, may get a yen
to leave his cold and icy reaches
And bask on fair Caidan beaches.

 

--Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

What Churl Has Pluckt ~ Fighter Poem for Andrea

 

Sir Andrea

(ballad)

 

What churl has pluckt the yellow rose

And cast it to the ground,

As if ‘twere but a common weed

And not a fleur renowned?

 

Who was it who did not admire

This prize in full fair bloom,

Who cut it to its tender stalk

And wrought untimely doom?

 

What fellow crushed it’s yellow head—

Tore petals from the boll,

And set them spiraling to earth

Asunder from the whole?

 

Whose foot then trod them in the loam,

As from the field he strolled,

Abandoned with their heady scent

Commingling with the mold?

 

It must have been a loveless soul

To wreak such wanton woe,

For all Caid, ‘tis surely known,

Esteemed Andrea so.

 

--Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

 

Not sure which Crown this was, but it's for Andrea and calls her a yellow rose.  I'm sure I can find it somewhere.  It may be in here already, just don't know what it's called.

Lord Richard atte Valeye ~ Fall 2022

 

Lord Richard atte Valeye

(villanelle)

An eagle – double-headed – casting ‘round

Talons flexing and eager for the fray,

One head forward-looking, one scanning down.

 

A wary argent lion hears the sound

Of wings a-beat and spies the bird of prey:

An eagle – double-headed – casting ‘round.

 

Battle met; the eagle is brought to ground,

The bird springs skyward, barely flies away

One head forward-looking, one scanning down.

 

A wing’ed fighter, formerly tree-bound

Bedeviling in his apian way

An eagle – double-headed – casting ‘round.

 

The double-beak’ed bird snaps all around

But cannot bring the bee a-buzz to bay.

One head forward-looking, one scanning down.

 

In  mighty combat the eagle was downed.

Lord Richard did not win a crown this day: 

An eagle – double-headed – casting 'round

One head forward-looking, one scanning down.

 

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal

 

Sir Parmenio Bassarion ~ Spring 2020

Sir Parmenio Bassarion

Fighter poem ~ Pantoum

From the dire coast of Thermopylae

To the fair shores of Calafia

Parmenio came for the sword play

That might lay a wreath on Mattea.

From the fair shores of Calafia

They journeyed forth on Crown Tourney day

That might lay a wreath on Mattea

Should Parmenio win through the fray.

They journeyed forth on Crown Tourney day

Along with many a fighter stout

Parmenio must face in the fray

            And best opponents in every bout.

Along with many a fighter stout

            Came Baron Rudolph to test his sword

And best opponents in every bout.

            Parmenio laid him on the sward.

First came Rudolph to test his sword

            Next came Lord Reinholdt, a man at arms.

Parmenio laid him on the sward

Now buoyed by fate and his lady’s charms.

After Lord Reinholdt, the man at arms

            Strode THL Pansa (who would be king).

Buoyed by his fate and his lady’s charms;

            Dumbstruck when Pansa made his helm ring.

Away strode Lord Pansa (who would be king)

            Parmenio sought his lady’s arts.

Dumbstruck when Pansa made his helm ring

            Mattea soothed his wounds and his heart.

Parmenio sought his lady’s arts

            And sprang afresh to the tourney field

Mattea soothed his wounds and his heart

            Parmenio made Sir Nicolo yield.

He sprang afresh to the tourney field

            Ready to take them, come one and all

Parmenio made Sir Nicolo yield

            Then turned to face the Crown Tourney brawl.

Ready to take them, come one and all

            Parmenio faced Count Makandro.

He turned to face in Crown Tourney brawl

            Then fell at last to a mighty blow.

Parmenio faced Count Makandro

            His wound too grave for any to mend.

He fell at last to a mighty blow

            His Crown Tourney journey at an end.

His wounds were grave, but one day they’ll mend

            And once again to battle he’ll roam.

Crown Tourney journey is at an end,

            Knight and Lady return to their home.

And once again to battle he’ll roam

            And might lay a wreath on Mattea.

Knight and Lady return to their home

            To the fair shores of Calafia.

 

--Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

Duke Sven Orfhendur ~ Fall 2019

Sven & Ismay ~ fighter poem

I think that I shall never see

A sloth a’dangling from a tree.

A tree whose green and leafy shade

Conceals a squirrely escapade.

Around and round and up and down

The squirrels cavort above the ground.

Chittering, chattering, leaping

Over the treed sloth a’sleeping.

Shaking off the squirrels and slumber,

Ericward, begins to lumber

Sloth in search of merry thwacking,

Seeking out some friendly whacking.

A golden eagle spies the sloth

Claws a’clicking in his wroth.

Lackadaisical tree-hugger

Ouch! No match for aerie mugger.

Dizzy sloth, his brain a’pounding

Shakes it off, his strength rebounding.

Scans the field with fortitude,

Hears a shriek to curl the blood.

Screaming from the sky a dragon

Parti-colored wings a’flappin’.

Slothy claws are made for grasping;

Dragon’s claws just leave him gasping.

Arial warriors are no fun

Besides it’s hot here in the sun.

Perhaps the squirrely cavalcade

Is worth a dangle in the shade.

~ Pippin Skylark

...always tart and crisp

Fall 2019

Sir Edward Castleguard ~ Spring'19

Sir Edward Castleguard

(embellished awdl)

Silver wing’ed mythic beast

Eagle claws and lion feet

Climbs the sky with every beat,

Searching for a battle meet:

Win by right a regal seat

Comes Edward Castleguard.

From the vale of azure hue

Verdant islands ringed in blue

Good sir knight and lady true:

Mistress Krystyan del la Poole

And Edward Castleguard.

Answering the heralds’ call

Doughty fighters one and all

Crescent crown holds each in thrall;

Come to dance a martial brawl

Has Edward Castleguard.

Lighting on the field of play

Basking in Crown Tourney day

Eager now to join the fray

Claws a’click to flench his prey

Stands Edward Castleguard.

Master Christian de Guerre

Takes the eric with a flair

Sporting shoes of azure rare.

Griffin swooping from the air

Snatching, snarfs the blue footwear!

Grins Edward Castleguard.

Bounding forth a bullock Or

Bellowing a mighty roar

Shakes most foremen to the core.

Swooping, tramples bull to gore

Does Edward Castleguard.

Duke Mansur of Araby

Horseman of the Cavalry

Spies the griffin gleefully;

Hooves that beat a timpani

Cross the eric sending scree

O’er Edward Castleguard.

Dazed, a’wobble, takes the sky

Griffin with a mighty cry

Challenges an eagle high;

Sharp claws strike and feathers fly!

Sir Jamal whose end is nigh

By Edward Castleguard.

Buoyed by this turn of fate

Basking in his happy state

Thirst for blood he plans to sate:

Lays a snare a sloth to bait

Does Edward Castleguard.

Sven the sloth is deadly fast

With his sinister reach vast

Lo the battle die is cast

Thwack! And griffin breathes his last

Poor Edward Castleguard.

Krystyan’s truelove’s day is done

Soared too high and touched the sun;

Crown goes to another one.

Ending now his tourney run

It sure was a lot of fun!

Smiles Edward Castleguard. 

--Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...is a 15th century Burgundian wool merchant who thinks she's a 10th century Viking weaver.

Sir Andrew Baird ~ Fall 2018

Sir Andrew Baird

Englyn Penfyr

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            Byzantium sent its best

            The crown of Caid to wrest.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            Cold Wintermist’s martial lord

            Bested the bee with his sword.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            A reremouse from Calafi

            Likewise took apart the bee.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

A baron hight Killian

Gave Sir Andrew his first win.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            Who lost to Tiberius,

            A knight just as furious.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            A baron from Gyldenholt

            Fell eric-ward with a jolt.

Crucible tests the mettle of a man:

            Though the bee did not advance

            Sir Andrew Baird made his stance.

~ Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal

Duke John at Gwyndaf of Holdingford

Duke John ap Gwyndaf of Holdingford

(Shakespearean Sonnet)

A knight from Holdingford came to Caid

The Crown to win by might and martial skill.

A brace of bears to slay e'er he proceed

To knock a raven from the sky to kill.

Duke John surveyed the field with spirits high,

The ground awash in blood and target rich.

The better to display his skill and ply

His swordsmanship to scratch a Royal itch.

But now the stakes are raised for Holdingford;

The battle of the dukes a mighty fray.

First Mansur drove John to the bloody sward

Then Patrick put paid to John's tourney day.

The Royal fight advanced as day wore on.

Twined rosemary enwreaths another one.

Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...an empty vessel for the Muse

Alsander Bardon ~ villanelle

Alsander Bardon


(villanelle)

Alsander Bardon

The meremouse flits in search of prey

Sounding out the target-rich field.

Contenders clash to gain the day.

Sable crescent joins in affray;

The wing’d bat forces him to yield.

And meremouse flits in search of prey.

Three bears cuff the bat away;

A weakness of meremouse revealed.

Contenders clash to gain the day.

A battle axe attempts to slay,

But easily the bat has wheeled.

The meremouse flits in search of prey.

A castle strong stands in his way

And forces bat at last to yield.

Contenders clash to gain the day.

The field was fierce in martial play;

The bat knocked to the battlefield.

The meremouse flit in search of prey;

Contenders clashed to gain the day.

--Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal.

Lord William Ulfsson

Lord William Ulfsson

(verse in iambic pentameter)

A pack of wolves came hunting ~ green and gold

A’flash across the verdant battle field ~ they spy

A hunting horn, three paw prints in the wold

And run to ground Bjorn, who fell thereby.

An eagle in a cedar tree took flight

The snapping pack to harry, but alas

It flew too low ‘til wolves could snatch a bite

And Eowyn’s Jamal fell to the grass.

Likewise a hare came bounding ‘cross the field

And charged the pack of wolves in feverish mien.

The rabid rabbit quit the battlefield;

A wolven midday snack was Snorri’s bane.

Alexander’s golden hippo spied

The pack of wolves a’frisking on the lawn.

Tooth and claw met armored hippo hide;

The river horse dispatched them with a yawn.

Undaunted, Liam’s pack shook off the loss:

Eyed a sloth in arboreal repose.

Alas, Sven proved a fractious foe to cross

And brought the wolf’s son’s tourney to a close.

Like stars, three dragonflies encircle him

As Aesa plies her loving, healing balm.

Crown Tourney Day has ended now for Liam

Who did acquit himself with great aplomb.

--Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...an empty vessel for the Muse

Sir Omar ibn Haroun Al-Askari Al-Rumi

Sir Omar ibn Haroun Al-Askari Al-Rumi
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S.

(sonnet)

A soldier of the Byzantine set forth

Across the Levant bound for distant lands.

To win a kingdom for his fair Katrin

He braved sirocco winds and burning sands.

Sir Omar crossed snow fields and storm-tossed seas

As foreign to his nature as the stars

That led him ever onward to his goal:

A kingdom he might gift his paramour.

Caid is such a land whose throne is won

By one who bests the best who fight this day.

Beset by Vikings: Snorri, Haldorr, Sven

He bested one, then fell in mortal fray.

No accolades, no wreath of rosemary.

But Omar lives to fight another day.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...a weaver of words and wadmal.

Ambrose Wyld ~ Pantoum

Ambrose Wyld

(Pantoum)

Immortal Scotsman, Ambrose hight,

A challenge to the ground did fling

Upon the tourney field to fight

Agrippa, once and future king.

A challenge to the ground did fling,

His swordsman’s skill to put to test

Agrippa, once and future king;

Alas, Agrippa proved the best.

His swordsman’s skill he put to test

For Lady Apollonia.

Alas, Agrippa proved the best;

For Ambrose, catatonia.

The Lady Apollonia

Foresaw this outcome from Delphi:

First Ambrose, catatonia;

Then rise he would, fates to defy.

She saw this outcome from Delphi.

Ancient skills she wove by design:

Rise he does, his fate to defy.

Ambrose next will face Byzantine.

Ancient skills woven by design

Can only glimpse what fates portend.

Ambrose faces the Byzantine.

His tourney day comes to an end.

She only glimpsed what fates portend

Upon the tourney field of fight.

His tourney day came to an end;

Immortal Scotsman, Ambrose hight.

Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

…is a 15^th century Burgundian wool merchant who thinks she’s a 10^th century Viking weaver.

Fall Crown Tourney '16