Location: Shire of Trisel, Trimaris

I am in my late forties, a proud husband, father, and a bard. I am a book pedlar by trade and a bookman by vocation. I am a romantic, a realist, and a Believer. I like a good joke, and a bad one even better. I admire all ladies for the innate beauty that is in each one, but my heart is sworn to the fair and gentle Lady Lorelei, who has consented to share my life and my name.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

What Are You Seeking?

What are you seeking, my Bonny, my dear?
Are you sure that you'll want what you find?
Sometimes the having is not worth the hunt,
And you find that you've just changed your mind.

Do your eyes glitter bright for some shiny new toy
Wrapped up in paper and string?
Do you find your delight was all in the paper
Wrapped round some dull and base thing?

Would you cast your eyes where few look for value,
To what was discarded and tossed?
Can you see the worth that waits for renewal?
Will you turn and let it be lost?

Treasures are found where you least expect,
Hid by an unlikely facade.
Waiting for one with the courage to claim them,
A gift from the left hand of God.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Meditation on Honor and Truth

When I claim the honor of a bard,
It is with the heaviest of hearts,
For I obligate myself to speak the truth
However much I know I'd rather not,
Without regard to how much it will hurt.
Knowing this reluctance, as I do,
I twist the blade deep within my own flesh
As much as I do in my listener.
For honor is a double-edged sword
That is made with neither hilt nor guard,
But must be gripped upon its razor's edge
That cuts away the falsehood from the truth
That may be hid behind the pretty words.
I am compelled by honor to speak true;
To break my silence for the truth entire,
With tears shed for the damage that I do,
Knowing that there is no guarantee
That any will be better for my words:
Rather with the expectation that,
More likely those that hear will be the worse.
So hesitate and think before you ask
That I speak only truth into your ear.
For I know the truth that you receive
May not be the truth you want to hear.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Cisco's Battle Cry

Twas at the War of Fools
That the young lord took the field,
Wielding sword and board
To make all comers yield.
And over the battle could be heard
"All enemies must die!"
The mighty-bellied bellow
Of Cisco's battle cry.

The nobles did take note of him
And called him into court
To offer an Award of Arms
Upon his warlike sort.
And after someone fetched him
From the field, and told him why,
Once more the trees did echo
With Cisco's battle cry.

And then there were the parties
To celebrate the day.
And somewhere between beer and rum
All caution went astray.
The mighty belly did rebel,
There's few who wonder why,
And gave new meaning to the words,
"Cisco's battle cry.

Now came the morning after,
With the rising of the sun.
The warrior woke in great distress
At all that he had done.
While contemplating wisdom
And wishing he could die,
The entire camp was woken up
By Cisco's battle cry.

Now if you to the wars must go,
I'm sure that you'll fight well.
You'll demonstrate your prowess
With a warrior's mighty yell.
But if you over-celebrate,
Your wits will go bye-bye,
And all night you will fill the woods
With Cisco's battle cry.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

A Dance Melancholy And Slow

She sits on the bank of a slow moving stream.
The breeze blows her hair to and fro.
She searches the depths neath the stones and the leaves,
Wondering where did the fairy tales go.

She walks crowded streets with her eye on the clock,
No time to indulge in her dreams.
Her days are all shaded in patterns of gray,
And everything's less than it seems.

She lights candles over a dinner for one,
Macaroni and cheese and light beer,
Repeating the day's events to her cat,
Who catlike, pretends not to hear.

She looks out her window at soft falling snow,
Coffee cup warming her hand,
Remembering all the connections she's missed.
This wasn't the life that she planned.

She offers her world a bittersweet smile,
Accepting what she cannot change,
And passes from youth to old age fore her time.
The loneliness makes us all strange.

Our days play like music upon hidden strings,
Composing each verse as we go;
A melody played in a soft minor key,
A dance melancholy and slow.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Said With A Sardonic Smile

In love, I have the patience of a glacier.
Ten years from now, when you have exhausted
Every other possibility, you will realize
That you have been madly in love with me all along.
Rushing to my side, you will find me
On my deathbed, where I have wasted away
For want of you. You will kiss me goodbye,
And I will die happy, with your taste upon my lips.

Monday, April 16, 2007

The Meridian Foreign Legion

Although we were not born here.
Although we’ve wandered far.
Still we have found our place, here
Beneath the Southern Star.
Our Banner’s planted in this soil
And we will roam no more.
We’re the Meridian Foreign Legion,
And we’re marching off to war.

We draw swords for Meridies,
Our adopted land.
We’ve made our oaths of loyalty,
And here we’ll take our stand.
We are our Kingdom’s shield wall.
We’ll fight for the Cross and Star.
The Meridian Foreign Legion
Is marching off to war.

You can stick us in the front lines
In the thickest of the fight.
If you need a dirty job done,
You know who’ll do it right.
And when the dust has settled,
Our Kingdom’s foes shall yield.
The Meridian Foreign Legion
Will own the battlefield.


Though in the past we may have
Stood beside you in a fight.
Today we stand against you
In Meridian black and white.
We’re always first to battle.
We march forth with a cheer.
The sooner the victory’s ours,
The sooner we’ll have some beer!

CHORUS twice.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Fireside Bard

There are those who prefer to perform at Court
For the nobles at their feast.
But I prefer the fireside
Where there there's room for the great to the least.
Those high proper rules of etiquette
Sound pretty, but after a while,
I start to long for a rougher crowd
Whose manners are more my style.

A goblet of wine and a maiden fair
Are the height of courtesie.
But I'm satisfied with a tankard of ale
And a buxom wench on my knee.
You can always count on polite applause
From the ranks of the Gentility.
But a boisterous crowd that roars and cheers
Is the audience for me.

At evening I head for the tavern
Or the campfires just off the road,
Happy to sing for my supper
And lighten a travellers load.
To win a smile from some pretty eyes,
With my verses, a song or a jest,
Where ever the company's rowdy,
I'm always an honored guest.

Performing at Court is an honor
And a priviledge that I enjoy.
But the Crown wants their entertainments refined,
So my delicate arts I employ.
But when my performance is finished,
And the Quality's had enough song,
I know there is waiting a place by a fire
Where the party will last all night long.

Friday, April 06, 2007

War Camp

Gathered round the fire
Everybody brings
Some of this,
A bit of that
To create a feast for kings.
The meat begins to sizzle,
A bottle makes the rounds,
And talk looks back
To other wars,
And other battle grounds.

Then someone calls for music.
The bard begins to play.
A hush falls on
The camp as all
Await what he might say.
He spins a tale of valor,
Of honor in the fight.
A merry song
That resonates
Into the deeping night.

The golden glint on armor;
Reflections from the fire,
Dance before
The youngling's eyes
As they begin to tire.
Couples, arm in arm,
Exchanging knowing looks.
The night contains
More lessons than
Are found in history books.

Weapons at the ready
For the battle on the morn.
Tomorrow's deeds
Will shake the skies,
And legends will be born.
But tonight we feast and revel
Despite the cold and damp.
The fire burns
Within us all
Throughout our war camp.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


It's not that I belittle what you feel.
I know that it is real enough to you.
Such heady moments do have their appeal,
And I've been down that road a time or two.

But since I have been where you are before,
Perhaps I've a more jaundiced eye than you.
The thrills that leave you gasping, hurting, sore;
I've seen them from a different point of view.

I've seen them come and go, through rise or fall;
Some pleasant, or some ending painfully.
The only constant: I've survived them all,
And bear away the marks they've left on me.

You've only just begun to play the game.
Just give it time: You'll find it much the same.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Wisdom Quest

I sought the source of wisdom,
The legends where it's found;
In a potion or a fountain,
Or buried underground;
The cup that heroes quested for,
The scroll for which they fought;
The gift that cost them everything
And still could not be bought.

As I journeyed on my quest,
I met along the way
The lessons of experience
Attached to each new day;
The obstacles I struggled with,
The blows that left me numb,
That staggered my endurance
As I strove to overcome.

Friends and my companions
Who once walked by my side;
The loved ones who were dear to me,
No more with me abide.
They've passed into my memory,
From which they'll not return.
And yet for all my losses,
For wisdom I still yearn.

I've passed through nights of loneliness,
When all my hopes seemed dark,
In dispair of ever finding
The source of wisdom's spark.
And though the nights grow black and cold,
Still I soldier on
In pursuit of that elusive dream
Always one step beyond.

And what I have to show for it
Is less than joy sublime;
The lessons of experience gained
One footstep at a time;
Just random precious nuggets
Hidden amidst the dross;
And everything I've gained
Is balanced 'gainst a loss.

What I've gained I'll impart to you,
This last before I go.
My eyes have been opened
To what I wish I did not know.
Wisdom comes less from victory,
Than it's discovered in defeat;
And the lessons gained from wisdom
At best, are bittersweet.