Sirona's Shoulder Song

I feel like a beauty queen
In my home made shoulder sling.
Getting hurt has never been so sexy.
I swung my long sword round about
Until I threw my shoulder out.
Its enough to make a nun have apoplexy.
But now I’m settled in my chair
With a sash from here to there,
While my man waits on my every need.
Yeah, my shoulder is a bust,
But I am still Miss cut and Thrust.
Excelsior! Yes, I’m a queen indeed.

Armored up with sword and helm,
Confident I’d overwhelm,
I walked out in my best gear feeling pretty.
I went out to strut my stuff,
And tore up my rotator cuff.
The pain is really something else that would rhyme here.
But now I’m settled on my throne.
The attention’s all for me alone.
My fans stand round me now with mouths agape.
My fellow says, “Hey, I’ll take care of ya”
Trade my helmet for a tiara.
That’s more like it. Boy, peel me another grape!

For Tammy on Valentines Day

It’s been a while since this holiday
Has held any significance for me.
And so I take a moment, now to say
Thank you for the privilege to be
The one who stands beside you in the night;
The one who holds you at the break of day.
For you’re the one who fills me with delight,
And you’re the one who holds my heart in sway.
I cannot tell you what the future holds.
What lies ahead remains a mystery.
But the God whose love us both enfolds
Holds the future for both you and me.
You are my friend, my help, my love, my wife,
With whom it is my joy to share my life.

Crossroads of London

Come one, come all,
To the Crossroads of London.
Let us make merry
In the Spring of the year.
Pleasures you’ll find
At the Crossroads of London.
A tavern awaits
To serve us good cheer.

Come warriors all
To the Crossroads of London.
We bask in good fortune,
Come show us your skill.
Rewards to be had
At the Crossroads of London.
Your display of valor
Your ladies to thrill.

Come poets and bards
To the Crossroads of London.
Come with your music,
Your stories and song.
Delights for the ears
At the Crossroads of London.
If you don’t know the words
You can still hum along.

Let everyone come
To the Crossroads of London,
For spring is upon us
Cold winter is past.
Let the revels begin
At the Crossroads of London.
Meridians come
To make memories that last.

For Edmund and Deanna

Lady Deanna by your many charms
You have won Lord Edmund to your side.
He’s so thrilled by your smile which him disarms,
That you’ve become his life, his joy, his pride.
You’ve taken him from cold and lonely days
To his current state of wedded bliss.
He can’t but smile whene’er his mind replays
The pleasurable memory of your kiss.
He’s grateful for the privilege to share
His life with you, who makes his soul complete.
So he comes heart in hand before you here,
To humbly lay it at his lady’s feet.
For one so overcome with love, it’s hard
To make up words, and so he asked the Bard.

An Unsubtle Reference to Dull Black Metal Cookware

Beware the one
Who claims to hate
Self-righteousness, hypocrisy,
And…”those people”;
You know who is meant,
The ones not like us
Enlightened ones who
Would never dream
Of condemning anyone, except
Of course, naturally those
Who it is culturally acceptable
To condemn.
Subscribing to only
Socially approved
Norms of non-conformity,
Following the tenets
Of the mass-produced
Conventions of allowable free thought,
It is so much easier
To sit in judgment,
Than to risk contamination
By taking the time,
And making the effort
To find out just who it is
That has failed to measure up
To the conventional wisdom;
A contradiction in terms anyway.
But then, the person
For whom this is written
Would agree with
Everything I have said,
Never once recognizing
The reflection in the mirror.