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

 

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.

THLord Sven Orfhendur - Fighter Poem - villanelle

THLord Sven Orfhendur
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXII

(villanelle)

Do not go lightly into that good fight,
Orfhendur needs to rave till close of day;
Rage, rage against the vying of the knight.

Ofhendur at your end know might makes right
Because your wounds and dents proclaim it- hey!
Do not go lightly into that good fight.

Good Sven, from tree limb hanging, set your sight
On Ivan, your first challenge of the day;
Rage, rage against the vying of the knight.

Wild Sven, you catch with sword the sun in flight
And learn - sad fate - duke cleaves you where you lay;
Do not go lightly into that good fight.

Brave Sven, near Dieter, tremble at the sight,
Orfhendur blazes brightly in the fray.
Rage, rage against the vying of the knight.

Oh Sven, Orfhendur, hanging from your height,
Courteously and chivalrously I pray:
Do not go lightly into that good fight.
Rage, rage against the vying of the knight.

-- Pippin Skylark

...always tart and crisp.

THLord Johathan Whitehart - Fighter Poem - villanelle

THLord Johathan Whitehart
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXIII

(villanelle)

A flash of white across the verdant green -
The whitehart flies, a pack of beasts gives chase.
The royal hunt is perilous and keen.

As whitehart streaks away one Brut is seen
To strike a glancing blow with little trace:
A flash of white across the verdant green.

The trumpet of an elephant goes clean
Through quivering whitehart, freezing him in place.
The royal hunt is perilous and keen.

As eagle in a cedar swoops to glean
The carcass of the hart, who leaps to race,
A flash of white across the verdant green.

Alas, whitehart falls to the Thuringian -
Though fleet of foot, he's no match for his Grace.
The royal hunt is perilous and keen.

The day's awash in blood and bone and spleen,
And whitehart burst his heart to fly apace,
A flash of white across the verdant green.
The royal hunt is perilous and keen.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

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

Battling Bards of Caid - Fighter Poem - villanelle

Battling Bards of Caid

(villanelle)

The battling bards of Caid ply their swords
With equal grace, dispatching on the field
As they apply their pens to parsing words.

Be they knights and peers and fighting lords
Or fighting ladies with conviction steeled
The battling bards of Caid ply their swords.

And once they've put away their sticks and boards
They'll turn their skills to epic tales revealed
So they apply their pens to parsing words.

From seacoast, desert winds and frigid fjords
And all the lands where weapons they might wield
The battling bards of Caid ply their swords.

But all the while they're battling with the hordes
They're searching for poetic themes concealed;
As they apply their pens to parsing words.

So know when these words strike some bardic chords -
A carillon of martial music's yield -
The battling bards of Caid ply their swords
As they apply their pens to parsing words.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...is an empty vessel for the Muse.

~*~

It dawned on my this Crown Tourney (XXXV, or 2000) that over half of our bards were also fighters. So I wrote them a poem in honor of the fact.

Sir William Schuyler - Fighter Poem - villanelle

Sir William Schuyler
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXVI

(a villanelle)

An awesome foe assaults the castle wall
As William stands his ground with sword and shield
The battlements may shake, but cannot fall.

Th first to storm the stronghold is Njal.
This son of Grimm determined not to yield.
An awesome foe assaults the castle wall.

On William's hopes the Viking casts a pall.
Sore wounded, at his lady's touch he's healed.
The battlements may shake, but cannot fall.

Emboldened, comes forth Saracen Jamal,
His breadth and girth enflex the very field.
An awesome foe assaults the castle wall.

Burgundian and Saracen now brawl
And William to the very ground is wheeled.
The battlements may shake, but cannot fall!

For Philippa, Sir William gave his all.
In striving for the Crown his fate was sealed.
'Tho awesome foes assault the castle wall
The battlements may shake, but cannot fall.

--Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal

Andre Miguel Rodriquez de la Rosa - Fighter Poem - villanelle

Andre Miguel Rodriquez de la Rosa
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXVI

(a villanelle)

Floppy ears and flapping wings
Buoyant on Crown Tourney day
Dancing while the steel rings

Ready for what challenge brings
Charging rampant to the frey
Floppy ears and flapping wings

James of Nayland battle flings
Rabbit spirit must give way
Dancing while the steel rings

Up he hops and challenge sings
Calling Ragnar out to play
Floppy ears and flapping wings

Cracking blow his helmet dings
Dizzy rabbit hits the clay
Dancing while the steel rings

Kathrine to his honor clings
As she mourns her brave Andre
Floppy ears and flapping wings
Dancing while the steel rings

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal

Sir Ragnar of Sandcastle - Fighter Poem - Villanelle

Sir Ragnar of Sandcastle
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXVI

(a villanelle)

Mind your step as you stride across the strand,
Great was the battle that raged here today.
A mighty castle crumbles into sand.

Brian de Barri answered Crown's command
And threw his helmet into the list fray.
Mind your step as you stride aross the strand.

Spanish Andre hopped up to try his hand.
Though Ragnar stood and Andre limped away,
A mighty castle crumbles into sand.

James of Nayland came forth with sword in hand.
Ragnar's hopes began to melt away.
Mind your step as you stride across the strand.

Njal put paid to Ragnar's tourney plan.
Fierce was the battle that ended Ragnar's day.
A mighty castle crumbles into sand.

Great were the warriors who fought for Caid's land,
Terrible the price Ragnar had to pay.
Mind your step as you stride across the strand,
A mighty castle crumbles into sand.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...an empty vessel for the Muse.

The Favor - Fighter Poem - villanelle

The Favor

(villanelle)

A scrap of cloth, a bit of colored string --
To beg a boon he makes to be so bold.
The path to victory's a chancy thing.

The lady, well inclined to favoring
A brazen, boastful champion unforlds
A scrap of cloth, a bit of colored string.

He mounts his steed, gay token dangling
Against his tabord for all to behold.
The path to victory's a chancy thing.

He knocks opponents flying, lance tilting
While flashing in the sunlight, bright as gold:
A scrap of cloth, a bit of colored string.

Advancing through the Lists, imagining
The kind of tales the troubadors have told,
The path of victory's a chancy thing.

But Fate will play a part for knave or king.
Beneath him in the dust as day grows cold:
A scrap of cloth, a bit of colored string.
The path to victory's a chancy thing.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...is a weaver of words and wadmal

Ithuna’s Orchard - Fighter Poem - villanelle

Ithuna’s Orchard

(a villanelle)

Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun
That bathes each laden bough a golden hue;
She reaches up to pluck the fairest one

To dangle ‘fore her squealing princeling son.
As leafy branches shade the merry two,
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun.

The Royal sire then joins the family fun
And winking, takes a juicy bite or two.
She reaches up to pluck another one

In playful pique as Drogo swings their wun-
derkind atop a sturdy bough and true.
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun.

The Royal pair beams proudly at their scion;
Bjorn the wobbly laughs without a clue.
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun;
She reaches up to pluck her fairest one.

— Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

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