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.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The Privilege of the Crown

Kingship is a privilege that’s spun
From equal parts belief and fantasy,
Earned partly by the feats of arms you’ve done,
And partly by our willingness to see
In you person worthy of our crown,
A noble we accept as fit to reign.
So voluntarily, we all bow down,
And name you sovereign of our domain.
So while by combat you have won the throne,
Receiving all the honor you deserve,
You hold that seat by our belief alone,
The people it’s your privilege to serve.
You serve as King as long as you perceive
You reign because it’s our choice to believe

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

A Toast to Meridian Rapier

Here's to the Swords of Meridies

In honor may they stand:

The few, the proud, undaunted;

Defiant blades in hand.

Long may they be celebrated.

Let cheers and anthems peel.

And may the foes of Meridies

Beware Meridian Steel.

Monday, August 13, 2007

The God's Honest Truth

Can you keep a secret?
Don’t tell a soul.
I swear every word is true
You didn’t hear it from me
If anyone asks,
And I’ll say the same for you.

The rumor started Saturday night,
When the mead was flowing free.
Something went on down by the lake,
But it was too dark to see.
Were there two bodies,
Or were there three
Keeping out of sight?
But somebody saw,
And somebody told,
All on a Saturday night.

There were too many shadows
Where there shouldn’t have been
And the word began to spread.
Someone was going to get it tonight,
At least that’s what somebody said.
And somebody’s husband
Was out of place.
At least that’s what somebody heard.
And somebody’s daughter
Was out way too late.
Promise you won’t breathe a word.

And that’s when they started
The hue and the cry
To find out just who’s off with who.
And nobody bothered to stop and enquire
Was there truth to this hullabaloo.
It wasn’t long till the shouting commenced,
With some words better left unsaid:
Anger taking the place of good sense.
Hearts broken and friendships dead.

And the saddest detail
Of this whole sorry song
Is that none of the rumors were true.
But the stories went round,
And the damage was done,
Leaving nothing but wreckage to view.
Don’t think you’re immune
To temptation’s call
To repeat what you only half see.
Cause rumor will outrun the truth every time
Hey, you didn’t hear it from me.

Can you keep a secret?
Don’t tell a soul.
I swear every word is true
You didn’t hear it from me
If anyone asks,
And I’ll say the same for you.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Shield Wall

A warrior fights for himself
To win himself renown,
A victory at tournament,
Or even gain a crown,
Increase his martial knowledge,
Display his skill at arms,
To earn the praise of poets,
To win a lady’s charms.

But when the warrior takes his place
Upon a battlefield,
Following his sovereign,
Bearing sword and shield,
He fights then, for his kingdom,
Not personal reward,
The greater glory and the good,
Which now command his sword.

His fellow warriors, left and right,
Stand guard upon his flanks.
And he, in turn, stands guard on them,
True brothers in the ranks.
United in their purpose,
They stand on holy ground.
And he would rather give his life
Than let his brothers down.

Weapons at the ready,
Their shields become a wall,
A veritable fortress
Protecting one and all.
A warrior seeking glory,
Who steps out from his place
Ensures his kingdom’s downfall,
And only earns disgrace.

No victory is certain,
However plans are laid.
But greater is the surety
When orders are obeyed.
Honor comes to him who waits
Upon his lord’s command,
The honor of the shield wall:
The integrity of the man.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Psalm of Returning

Psalm of Return
By the rivers of Babylon
We took up our lyres
And wept with joy,
For we were going home.
Our exile was at an end:
No more wandering in the wilderness
Scattered to the winds.
The new Zion, the new Jerusalem beckoned.
Once more the milk and honey would flow,
And we would partake
Of our Lord’s bounty,
Never again to stray
Far from His altar.
By the rivers of Babylon
We packed our lyres for the journey.
We would need them
For the celebrations
When we entered in
To the fullness of our joy.


Friday, August 03, 2007

Kingdom Road

There is a road that beckons
Us to follow on the way;
Calling us to let our
Mundane Lives be stripped away;
Responding to a memory,
Answering a star;
Our hearts desire revealing us
For who we really are.

Uncomfortable in modern skin,
We journey to the past,
Finding there the imaged form
In which our dreams are cast.
Putting on our other selves,
We answer to the call
To give allegiance to a crown
That binds us, one and all.

Behind us is our past lives,
Before us is a goal.
Our journey on the Kingdom road
Brings healing to the soul.
United in our service,
Obedient to the Throne,
Our greatest pleasure is to claim
The Kingdom as our own.

The Kingdom road’s not easy,
But we will never tire.
For we know that this rocky way
Leads to our heart’s desire.
We find ourselves by offering up
The loyalty that’s owed,
And claim the honor waiting all
Who walk the Kingdom road.