Poems of Chivalry & Passion

Cymru - The Crystal Instrument --

2011-03-15T09:55:00.001-07:00

Cymru - The Crystal Instrument --

The Instrument of Characters are Bells.
The Touch of one against the others Rings.
In Chorus does the Multitude then Sing
and we, the Listeners, do hear the Tales.

'Perspective' brings, to we who travel o'er
that Double Bridge that looks across the Times,
A Heroes' Story that, with Ancient Rhymes,
Conveys what Love and Avarice fight for.

Attend! The Teller draws her circled cloak!
The Stars themselves arrange as Constellates
as she, whose voice-Elysium does sate
the hungry soul with branching balms of Oak.

A Storyteller she. A Bard. A Muse.
We're blessed by words. Her Spell we'll not refuse.

=======
Be ye all well. Your Poet-Photonic, Robin.
(c) 2011 G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved.

'Steamy Done' Sonnet.

2011-02-10T05:14:00.000-08:00

'Steamy Done' Sonnet.

Upon the floor of dance she swirls the air.
as if her feathers guided motions there.
Menageries of all the richest birds
could never match her grace, worth praising words.

His white striped leggings and a courage white
propelled the Cad across the floor with spite.
Intent most foul enlarged his evil heart
while at her helpless self, he aimed his part.

I cocked my gun, advancing on the scene
But 'fore I walked two steps, her eyes had seen
and DEALT with Bully like a bully should...
by dropping him, quite senseless, 'pon the wood,

Her poise and carriage carried me away.
I've loved her deeply ever from that day.

---
(c) 2010 by G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved

"What Clearly Blooms in Voice"

2011-02-10T04:36:00.000-08:00

"What Clearly Blooms in Voice"

This paper. This fine sheaf-made book of love-
combed vellum holds upon its Iv'ry flesh
the best of inky strokes and jewel like spots...
a very thick and folding window here.

This book, this tome, this bible of a heart...
So much lays in it for us all to read.
So much waits only good translation's touch
to free, to ear, to heart, to soul, to God.

This volume in my study that I'd touch
is signatured by only one scribe's work.
It is your voice that carries all these words.
Your voice whose gold and rarely witnessed hues
rejoice with poet's meaning from an age
that never knew our Sovereigns at all.
But still they echo out their tongues to us
an echo slow and old that speaks to us
reminding all alive that once were They.

Your key unlocks the truth of what was known
Its gift then guides from darkness with what's shown.
-----------
(c) 2010 by G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved.

'Spoken - Heard'

2011-02-10T04:31:00.000-08:00

'Spoken - Heard'

A word or two may glance from off the tongue
with Thought - or not - directing what is said.
But what is Heard is often not among
the list of true intentions that once lead.

'Intent' and 'Meaning' sometimes rest with 'Sense'.
but 'Understanding' comes so often late
that though the air is filled with noiseful rants
too little of the Truth gets through the gate.

We prattle on, we gush, pontificate...
We smatter-chatter, gossip and we lie.
In every way convey some minor state
of what our Heart has stamped upon its die.

Let all the World's confusion blot what's True...
I will still strive to speak my care of you.

(c) 2010 by G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved.

"Winter Sun"

2011-02-09T20:31:00.000-08:00

"Winter Sun"

It comes upon us, as reflections from
a mist-filled pond. The sun, as weak sounds come
from far-off fishermen, their oars in foam,
so this sun comes to us, who thank it some
for memories of all the fields it grew,
for brilliant days where shutters could stay loose,
those long lit days enabling to bring new
and better times than when weak storms confuse.

This Winter's Sun, this portrait of a Time
like lockets pressing air into its clasp
must to us be a beacon for the line
we walk, towards the Spring we long to grasp.

Our memory must bring us faith to earn
our pass to Spring through Winter's stormy churn.

------------------
(c) 2010 G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved

'Wonder 'pon the Stars'

2011-02-09T20:29:00.000-08:00

'Wonder 'pon the Stars'

Why cast we down our gaze when only slight
that distance to the ground? Why should we seek
this mantle brown when deeply blue the night
awaits our pleasant dreams and guesses meek?

For all that we can reach, our numbers small
can never count the orbs that prick our sphere.
As shimmered lakes do flash, those evening's jewels -
each faceted with fiery stars - give mirror.

Let us create a stepping to those flames
then tread upon Celestial's carpeting.
Upon our Earth gaze back to seek remains
so small. This glimmer but a spark it seems.

Those stars whose worlds dance all about our sky
but mind we watchers what our dreams may buy.

---
(c) 2010 G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved

"Winter Storm"

2011-02-09T20:27:00.000-08:00

"Winter Storm"

A Winter's Storm in Springtime harkens ill.
It beats a march onto the roof this night.
The rhythm burdens hearts worn hard by plight
Makes raw the soul that bleeds as cisterns fill.

Too many times the road called out to him
To go, to visit, travel one more time.
But always task at hand delayed the ride
And now he sits alone, late, at this Inn.

As every drop slides off the gable's well
And more, so many more will follow down
His spirit, empty, cold, no comfort found
Denies all hope will ever in him dwell.

His journey never made cost him his life.
Delay made her, his heart, another's wife.

----
(c) 2006 G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved

"Borrowing From Nature"

2011-02-09T20:26:00.000-08:00

"Borrowing From Nature"

I call upon the gentle rains and sun,
the moon and stars, the rose within its hue,
the woods and rivers, breezes' laden run,
the heart, the senses, sparrows and the dew.

These paints of words, each stroking silhouette
creates reflections from the world that is --
alludes to what is known and better set
by forces far beyond what I must miss.

So spar with what is given to what's shrined.
In vain I hope to compliment its own.
"So Nature thou art Nature's Art in prime.
So all of Nature's gifts from Nature grown.

I say 'you are a gem -- as rare and pure'.
When I could state 'you're you' and be as sure.
---

(c) G.Robin Smith 2010, all right reserved

'Season of the Cold Clouds'

2011-02-09T20:25:00.000-08:00

'Season of the Cold Clouds'

'tis Winter. Colder blasts the warring winds.
The bite of rains make daggers hook our bones.
If not for calendars, we would forsake
our hope of Spring and know our times would end.

'tis Winter. Clouds come down and are the Storm.
Thick Limbs do break, their needles thread the air.
The naked blusters dress in leaves that dance
with little things alighted on the ground

'tis Winter. Cluster now the snowdrift high.
The pointed crystals drop as ice from eaves.
The Wolves howl loudly to their packs in dens.
The pines explode from living saps that freeze.

The Sun may hide and Goddess Earth may sleep
But we with hearts will wake remembering.

(c) 2010 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved

"Brief Minutes"

2011-02-09T07:14:00.000-08:00

"Brief Minutes"

In rushing, flies the moments to prepare.
In gath'ring up the portions of the wend --
the food, the garments, notebooks and a pen --
The hurried scholar rags in frosty air.

A scribble of the quill leaves thoughts too spare --
Quick figures on exchequer needs, losts found.
Affection and of thanks all poorly bound.
Some notes on chores now done, too brief of care.

So Journal keeps another morning gone.
Tonight another note or two fills in.
A year in volumed to be shelved begins
and many more looked forward to be done.

'tis written every morning and each night.
'go safely, swift returning'. 'Love'. All's right.

(c) 2011 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved

Morning Slumber

2011-02-09T05:49:00.000-08:00

"Morning Slumber"

The mind in freedom soars as robins do
and like the larking red-breast, crows the day.
To cloud and sun, to high-perched tree-top's sway,
what realms deny it entrance? Very few.

To dream, to take in every breath and sound
from out the shuttered window and then weave
a garment full of splendored wonder. Sieve
the rude unwanted grit and live unbound.

All things combine. The motion of the morn
and candle flame. A breath and kitten's mews,
the creaking beams. But would I ever choose
a new made fabric and then have it worn?

This is the fancy best my life can be.
For dreams must wake, and wakened dreams be ye.

(c) 2011 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved.

'Nature's Trove'

2011-02-08T19:41:00.000-08:00

Nature's Trove

Soft is sight when mists lie and hug the trees
Giving skirt and shawl to the forest's kin.
Light is the dawn and gentle is the breeze
When morning light does whisk the wisps and fen.

Boulder Cracking thunder may blast a mount
To ash. Hot ocean lashing bolts of Jove
May steam and splash to bedrock the great fount
Of the sea. Nature has both in its trove.

The gentleness of a spider's spire.
The Ragnarock of a Volcano's blast.
The song of bird and the scream of fire.
All this have I known and loved, first to last.

For High and hot and sleepy as a babe;
All have I felt when in your arms I've laid.

---------------
In Prose, the Poem would look and read like this:
---------------

Soft is sight when mists lie and hug the trees giving
skirt and shawl to the forest's kin.
Light is the dawn and gentle is the breeze when
morning light does whisk the wisps and fen.

Boulder Cracking thunder may blast a mount to ash.
Hot ocean lashing bolts of Jove may steam and splash
to bedrock the great fount of the sea.

Nature has both in its trove. The gentleness of a
spider's spire,
The Ragnarock of a Volcano's blast. The song of
bird and the scream of fire.
All this have I known and loved, first to last.

For High and hot and sleepy as a babe; All have I
felt when in your arms I've laid.

(c) 1999, 2011 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved

'The Welcome Cold'

2011-02-08T19:38:00.000-08:00

The Welcome Cold

I greet this frosted air and frozen field,
The glassy pond and quiet morning breeze
With close and tender welcome. I'll not yield
To shudders for its Wintry challenges.

Tho' it withholds the many joys of Spring
And seems to misremember Summer's bliss,
I'd trade no other wealth or pleasure sing
Than moments cold and now that brings me this.

I stand within my holding, All I see
Is what I call my own by right and will.
And all is happy, held in blessed peace
Against the Times that may bring any ill.

But Pinnacled above what is my part
Is she who shares these lands, and warms my heart.

(c) 2011 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved.

'Morning Iris'

2011-02-08T18:52:00.000-08:00

Morning Iris

Today does drip upon me each sweet hour
as drops of honey... slow and powerful
Each new birding sound, the wafting flow'r...
Come, come and let me sense this joy employed.

All Nature is this day, a chorus trained
to give to Kings the best, now Groundlings shared
and I, a warrior, worn and pained
drink in this Elysium... Re-born. Re-paired.

I know the moment next will be as good
but I am so enjoined with this good time
I think upon that not. What good then should
be better than when we are all in rime.

All paths are smooth and even is their way
and I am blessed for you are here today.

(c) 2008, 2011 G.Robin Smith, all rights reserved.

'The Calling Sound'

2011-02-08T18:46:00.000-08:00

'The Calling Sound'

I wait upon the gate and watch the bell.
One swing and open goes the other quick.
For that one ring, the calling sound will nick
The hot impatience that would have me dwell.

I rush my thoughts towards the time at hand
And polish frets to mirrors of thy face.
I glance and peer while feet do dance their pace
While looking hard Horizon's broken band.

Each dodging branch foretells your riding through.
Each noise of stone or whinny is thy steed.
And every other Symphony a deed
By what you ride or sing or fairly do.

Your waiting love is pinioned by this Gate
O' please, 'Arrival' be thy only Fate.

(c) 2011 G.Robin Smith
All rights reserved

G.Robin Smith - "The B Book"

2008-08-14T15:47:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the on-line version of "The 'b' Book".

You are welcome to share this with anyone you know.
You are welcome to print out as many copies as you would like (please do not edit)
You are welcome to sell those copies, if you want, and donate the money to a good cause (I favor the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, or Five Rivers Fundraising - a non-profit support group)

The copyright stays with me, however. my email is alymere@gmail.com for questions or more information.

The PDF of the book is available on-line for free:
CLICK HERE FOR "THE 'b' BOOK"
It has prettier type faces than the version below. There are not many pictures, however, in either copy. The idea is you and your child(ren) put in the pictures (think Old Magazines)... it's called "family activity time" and can be fun.

Looking for more free, fun stuff that's educational? Try www.freerice.com.

People are sometimes suspicious of "free" things. It's understandable. This is a whim. I just hope it makes some people happy.

The text of the book follows, for those who just want to read it in ascii.

Best, GregRobin

The “b” Book

B b b b b b b b

Things that are found
the World Around
that start with
our sound
of ‘b’.

By GregRobin Smith
alymere@gmail.com (édition sans d'illustration)

A Family Activity Book. You and your children supply the pictures this book needs by cutting them out of old magazines, drawing them, taking your own pictures, etc. then paste them in. Enjoy making this YOUR book.

The Be-ginning
Note to this Draft 5.1, August 2008.
This is a book for Children – from pre-readers on up - and to the people who read to them. I hope you all enjoy it. I hope you enjoy this for yourself, while reading it to your child, while your child reads it with you (even just the ‘b’ parts) points to the items in their world that start with “B”, drools on it, etc.
I hope that it leads you both to explore the commonalities of our world and learn, or remember, many of the things that we have in our lives that just about everyone else knows about, too.
Your thoughts on what works for you, what keeps your child’s attention, the length, the complexity, etc. help in preparing the final manuscript. So please tell me your favorite, or less than favorite parts. I cannot promise to use every suggestion.
I can promise to be grateful for any constructive critique.
Write me at alymere@gmail.com

Some other sites with educational and fun material: FreeRice.com to build vocabulary and
goBENgo.info for school programs and links to the various things I am doing.
InteractiveHistory.net for my wife’s education company
Trilsean.com for Celtic inspired music by my wife and I.
Hardwicks.info my sponsor & one cool Hardware company.

© 2008 G.Robin Smith. Seattle Washington.

Babies
Babies are a special Gift.
Blessed are they every one.
All start small,
grow up too swift,
In learning, loving,
Never done.
Brooms
Brooms are for sweeping
from Room unto Room.
They clean Streets and Gutters.
They clean Night to Noon.
They brush out the Cobwebs.
They sweep out the Dust.
A Broom for the House is simply a “must”.
A Broom to get married* in past Time’s a Fact.
A Broom when you’re harried
will scoot out the Cat.
*In many cultures, a newly wed couple jumps
over a broom as part of the ceremony.
Buildings
A Building’s a Home, an Office, Hotel.
A Temple, a School, or a Mill, so I tell.
We can build it from Brick,
or from Wood, or from Straw.
We can form it from Mud
or from Snow, or from Sod.
A Building’s a Barn, or sometimes a Shack,
a Store, or an Outhouse, a Hut for your Yak.
They usually have Walls
and sometimes a Ceiling
It better have Floors, though,
to stand on, I’m feeling.
A Building’s a Building, but a Home is the best.
I hope yours is happy, if so you are blessed.

Balls
Balls around the World are known.
Kicked and hit and pushed and thrown.
Tennis, Cricket, Foot and Fetch.
Base and Basket, Hurley, Catch.
The Planet Earth’s a Ball you know
but bigger than the ones you throw.

Bags

Bags of Holding hold and carry.
Bags called Purses, Sacks, and Duffels.
Bags hold Corn, and Sand, and Berries
Bags hold Kerchiefs (they hold Snuffles)
Saddle, Satchel, Suitcase, Tote…
That’s all I wrote.

Bridges
Bridges take us from Here to There
without ever moving
one Foot or one Pier.
Bridges span from Land to Land
so we can go wherever we plan.

Ballads

Poems, Prayers, and Songs of Praise
Ballads rhyme the Words we raise.
Sung and strummed,
performed and hummed.
They remind us what’s to come.

Brides
There are dozens of ways for people to marry.
But most feature, with pride,
a Groom & a Bride.

Bangles
Shiny Rings and Bracelets, too
Baubles, Bangles, gleaming bright.
Made of Gold and Silver - Ooooohhh
Wear them on, and in, and through.

Bricks
A Brick will do the trick,
be it thin, be it thick.
To build a Wall or a Well.
or a Steeple for a Bell
To make a Bridge or an Oven,
you will need many dozen.
For a Tower or some Roads
you will need many loads.
For a Porch or Bar-B-Que
you will need quite a few.
Instructions:
First, to make them, you must bake them.
But be careful not to break them.
Once a-bed, you cannot wake them.

And it’s very hard to rake them.
Bards
A Bard is a Teller,
a Reader, a Singer.
A Speaker of Tales
of Mountains & Whales.
They dance, they sing,
they play, they rhyme.
They take you back
& forward in Time.
But best of all: the Bard you hear
gives you a Story that you can share.

Ban Sidh (Banshee)
A Ghost. A Spirit. A Haunting thing.
In creepy Tales we hear Them sing.
Also Fairie, Fae, & Sprite.
They walk the Shades
of pale Moonlight.

Breakfasts
There’s no better Deal
than a healthy Morning Meal.

Baskets
They’re woven with Reeds,
with Grass and with Wood Bark
With Cloth and with Hair,
and Bones from a Shark.

Barrels, Buckets, Baskets, Boxes,
Bottles, Bags and Bowls
(What can go in them to make them all lighter? Why “HOLES”!☺)\

Each bundles a Burden
from Rocks to Fresh Fish
In Bin, Bale, or Beaker,
whatever you wish.
From Beets for your Dinner
to Boots for your Feet
or anything, really, to have or to eat.

Barrels
Barrels hold! That’s what I’m told.
Barrels have rolled
From Days of olde
in Ships and in Stores.
From Trains & Trucks,
to Docks, & Decks,
on Dollies & Dories,
on Lorries, through Doors.
From Crackers to Pickles, Pickaxes and Swords. Oils, Nails, Snails, Ales,
Ciders, Syrups, and Ropes in Coils...
Barrels hold! (That’s what I’m told.)

Braids
Everywhere there’s long Hair
Braids will plait their way in there.
Hold in place, keep it neat
with Ribbons twining Flowers sweet.

Breads
Breads are like Ice Creams -
they come in all Flavors.
And for all that I’ve had,
there’s none of them bad.

Birds
Large as a Condor,
or small as a Sparrow.
One thing’s for sure,
they’re wide-spread, not narrow.
Flying, and perching,
singing, and more.
Birds are admired,
sought after, adored.
Penguins to Emus,
the Ostrich, and Wren.
All Birds - of - a - Feather
even the Hen.
Boots

A Boot holds a Foot
(and has throughout time).
But please do not ask
WHY they don’t rhyme.

Baths
A Bath is for bathing
in Rivers & Tubs
Waterfalls, Sprinklers,
& Rub-a-Dub Dubs.
We clean and we scrub.
We clear and we wash
with Buckets and Sinks,
in Hot Springs with Rocks.
We pour on the Water
and rinse off the Dirt.
And afterwards, sometimes,
have a clean Shirt.

Beaches
Our Planet is mostly Water.
Some of it cold, some of it hotter.
Icebergs & Hot Springs,
Puddles & Seas - all have an Edge,
and Beaches are these.

Bazaars
Bazaars, like your Markets,
Souks and Garage Sales,
have Sellers and Buyers,
Bananas and Hay Bales.
Buffalos, Beachwood,
Bureaus, and Birdseed.
Bazaars have most
everything you need.

Books
Look! A Book.
What have you heard?
With Pages & Pictures,
with Ink & with Words
It takes you, talks to you,
from left or from right.
A Book is your Friend,
from Morning through Night.

Belts
Belts girdle, bind, and buckle.
If they break, then we may chuckle.
Belt - it’s easily spelled.

Boats
Boats float. Of Wood, that’s good
and Metal and Plastics
of Concrete and Baskets.
Tree Trunks and Birch Bark,
Fiberglass, Steels.
Boats must have Hulls
and those must have Keels.
Water is handy, and
some have some Sails.
But floating is one thing
that each Boat entails.

Barbers
Barbers cut what we re-grow.
Like the Grass that Grown-ups mow.
While they shave, cut, trim and snip,
a Barber tries not to slip.
Beds
So now I lay me down for slumber
In Hammocks ‘tween two Trees asunder.
In Crib, on Cot, on Mat, and Air Bed
All I want’s a place for my Head.
“To sleep, perchance to dream” it’s been said.
Just let me lie in a nice, safe, warm Bed.

Beans
I think Beans are keen.
From Folk Tales to Dinner
they’re always a Winner.
Lima, String, Fava, Snap, Bush, and Pole,
Beans are just simply so wonderful.
Beans can be little. Beans can be long.
Beans taste good right up 'til they’re gone.
They’re green and they’re white,
they’re brown and they’re black.
You can turn them to buttons
for jeans, coat or pack.
Eat them, cook them & bake them at noon.
But never assume they’re JUST a Legume.

Blankets
We weave them on Floor Looms.
We keep them in Bedrooms.
We, under them, sleep.
Wrap in them, our Sheep.
Place under our Saddling.
Sit on them when paddling.
They’re warm, and can toss you.
As Antiques, they’ll cost you.
As Heirlooms - a Treasure,
their Worth’s beyond measure.
A Blanket of weaving
is Beauty, you know.
A natural Blanket is one we call Snow.

Boxes
Bananas to Flowers, Presents to Dinner,
Kept together for hours or years.
We use them & use them & use them again.
Boxes sure are versatile Friends

Bells
Bells give out ringing from large down to small.
Bells all like singing from Towers so tall.
From Hand Bells to Church Bells
& Door Bells, and Sleigh.
Wooden and Metal, they call out their way.
Cow Bells & Sheep Bells & Cat Bells, & more.
They each ring their Voices: a Sound we adore.

Bees & Bugs & Butterflies

Bees & Bugs & Butterflies
are in brown Dirt & in blue Skies.
Spreading, from the Flowers, Pollen.
Help recycle things when fallen.
Look up under & inside things.
See their Legs?
Look! Some have Wings.
But be careful, some have Stingers.
Don’t go poking with your Fingers.
Beads & Buttons
The Button & Bead are traded & sewn
With some made from Shells,
Clay, Wood, Stone, or Bone.
They hold on our Cuffs,
are Jewelry, or Cash.
Both Beads & bold Buttons
are always a smash.
These Seed Beads & Bugles,
from Stone & from Metals,
are made in the shape of
A Rosebud or Petals
or anything, really
(the Artist deciding)
but Buttons & Beadings
are NOT made for hiding
(except for the fun Game
of “Hiding the Button”
but like most of living
there’s always exuptions.)
On Necklaces, Earrings,
& Clothing, adorn.
They always are pretty
wherever they’re worn.

And one last ‘B’ word, important the world over: Benjamin Franklin, Printer,

who helped improve our understanding of the weather, the science of navigation, gave us new instruments (musical, household, and scientific) led groundbreaking research in Electricity, and led many successful efforts towards civic improvements. He helped promote the idea that we, the people, could be responsible for our own lives and government and contribute to the world in meaningful ways. He was born close to 300 years ago and left gifts for us all. May we do the same.

Thanks:

I would like to thank many people for their support: Pauline (Mom), Harry (Dad), Sue, John Edward, and David. Cym, my Bride, Buddy and 1st Editor, and Emily, her Daughter. Additionally, my Bardic student Bronwen, my Uncle Bill Ashley (a NASA experiment he built sits on the surface of Mars!) Sharon Clarke, Tara Fen, and the rest of my Family and Fans. Also, Benjamin Darling for his insightful suggestions (LaughingElephant.com), Dr. Margaret Read MacDonald for the truth about Storytellers (MargaretReadMacdonald.com) The Smiths, Ashleys, Hulshofs, Earlys, Durhams, Barneys, Stephens, Maiers, and Faulkers. The Center for Learning and the Brain, University of Washington and Dr. Tobey Nelson (from whose teaching all the good science represented here is based). AND Bob Herald, John Wilson, Marv Carstens, Thomas Hogan and all of my school teachers, Ken Burnett and William Hardwick, and everyone who reads these words.
My effort is by your work, and your questions, inspired

Printing courtesy of Hardwick & Sons, Inc. www.hardwicks.info.

-30-= ###

Wiggly Tooth - A joke in Elizabethan.

2008-02-04T11:08:00.000-08:00

I am working with a New Zealand playwright/independent film producer on a script. He has written it, I am translating it into Elizabethan Stage Language.

This joke was cut out of the script, but he liked it and thought it should be read. It is a bit of a bar joke, with some 'blue' images, so please, if such offends, do not read... but you probably shouldn't read A Midsummer Night's Dream, or Falstaff's lines, either.

Amended 01/14/08 © 2008 by Guy Hamling & G.Robin Smith. 2GeNtZ in partnership.

From "Verona". Scene: a bar. Friends night out.

Campbell tells a joke:

Attend... Into a tavern goes a knight.
Upon the bar there sits a bowl, in which
a treasure of the King’s best coin resides.
The knight does seem amazed “’zounds! What is this?”

The Tavern Man explains “A challenge, sir,
rewarded with the contents here, if all
a man can do is match the tasks I bear.”
“Why I’m a man who rises to the call,

No matter what the risk. But name to me
the gauntlet I must run, then watch and learn.”
The Keeper speaks. “Do spy that squire, he
where wall and wall do meet?” The knight then turns

and looks upon a living wall, an oaf
so broad and strong that, if he were a smith,
could up-end horses for to shod their hoof.
“He is a soldier from the Northern mists,

his blood from Viking Kings. But drop him with
a single blow and you the deed have won.”
The knight then pulls a sip of ale, then quips…
“’tis all?” The Innkeep grunts a belch like tone,

continues “Nay [whispers] ‘the gall’. Speaks “Lower down
in ancient pit a mastiff hound awaits
He’s killed a brace of bears at hunt, but non,
his fest’ring tooth abates. But pull from him

his rotting fang and champ’n - nigh – be told.”
“That’s all then, for this prize of coin? “Not quite”
the keeper spake. That strumpet, there, as old
as lies, in trade for thirty years and five?

Not once has she true pleasure known. Do loin
that task and treasure - own.” “The deed’s agreed!”
the knight declares, then tosses in his coin.
He calls for drinks of spirits rare, and speed

two tankards Beer. “The Queen!” says he, and gulps
the sack, then to the Squire takes the Beer.
“Here, Hold these, pray” and so he does, then jolts
[Campbell punches a powerful uppercut]—
he might’ly, knocking fist to jaw, the squire,

falls dropping, sopping, flopping to the floor.
Returning to the gape-mouthed Keep, two drams
more down of sack. Then strides to dungeon door
with all eyes on his noble back, he grabs

the latch, and CREEEAAK ensues, the gate, then c l o s e d
[make creaking sound again].
A moment held of silence-still… then Hell’s
own voice did roar! Sound shook the beams with growls
of pain from snarling Cerberus. The howls

and rage, the wails and barks. Such cries, and calls
and grunts! There were no noises from the crowd,
all conversations stopped. No sip of ale,
no talk, no tale, broke silence thick as shroud.

Then foot on step slow sounded he, that Knight
of iron-heart. Then door did CREEEAAAK and born
through crept a horror rent and stark. Once bright
his armor now a-scratched, his clothing torn,

his face a bloody mar but stood he bold,
tho’ almost dead, and limped he to the bar.
“I’ve dared and done two deeds of three, in truth.
Now point me, last, this whore with rotted tooth."

--
copyright (c) 2008 by Guy Hamling & G.Robin Smith
All rights reserved. Don't try and use this as your own. We know people.

-30-= ###

Votive (c) 2008 G.Robin Smith

2008-01-02T18:50:00.000-08:00

The Votive

A song tells Legend, Battles, Heaven's Fires!
A mural makes a forest on a wall
A book holds lives, philosophy and I'll
find every truth upon a stage of liars.

From acorns grow the tow'ring Oaken glen
and petty fear gives grief that leads to War.
Does gossip poison in its weight? No, more!
Can babes grow Kings? Does lust make fools of men?

Each small beginning, like a votive quaint,
may burn to bonfire if the fuel be fair.
May these few words then tell thee what I bear
And be a beacon, not a candle faint.

If these few simple words and deeds speak grand
they let you know how worshiped is your hand.

---
(c) copyright 2008 by G.Robin Smith Everett WA.
Do not sell this ir re-print with out permission. Thank you.
Shakespearean Sonnet.