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.

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