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.

Dobby Is Free!

I am now officially not the editor of the fighter poems anymore.  Twenty-five years (50 books) is enough I think.  Paul fitz Denis will do a fine job I'm sure.  Best of luck to him.