Sunday, August 16, 2020

Poetry for the Queen

This past reign, I have been writing poems for the Queen.  My goal was to write one poem for each of the Royal Progress events I went to.  When the reign became virtual, I decided to keep writing poems for the virtual courts.  If this reign had been normal, I would have written about 8 poems.  With the extended reign, I ended up writing 16 poems.  I am not going to publish all of them but here are are few of my favorites.

Snow buries the spring green grass

And the last leaf has fallen to the ground

The wren hides deep in the bare branches

And the chill of winter swirls about our souls

Yet we are blessed with the sun

And we know the summer’s warmth

For our Queen stands tall 


Know we not the cold nor the dark of night

Nor are our steps heavy nor our eyes dim

There is no frost that bites our hearts

Nor does ice hang sharp above our heads

In velvet do the stars dance with joy
In silk does the river run with grace

For our Queen stands tall


Winter will know our song of praise

Night will hear our laughter loud and true

Cold will know our warm embrace 

And snow will hear to our merry tune

We raise our eyes in light 

We raise our voices in love

For our Queen stands tall

 

(written for 100 Minutes War, November 2019)


----


I wait in the waxing night, the year grown old

Snow wrapped deep ‘round slumbering trees

Storm wracked branches dancing to wind’s song


I wait as the Huntsman’s pack races with the clouds

Driven wild against the waning silvered crescent 

Hunt’s calling horns sound a mourning cry in empty fields


I wait in the swirl of the blizzard as bitter cold bites

Frozen land encased in weary twilight

As the sun refuses to wake for the day


Yet I wait not for the sun, nor do I fear the Hunt

For she brings Yule Log’s light in her gentle hands

My Queen she blazes in the longest night


I wait not for the sun, nor do I fear the Hunt

For Her smile is the spring, warm and bright

Her laughter is a song of joy, a hymn of peace


I wait not for the sun, nor do I fear the Hunt

For Her tears are a soft rain, melting ice bound hearts

Her voice is as thunder, even Winter dares not disobey 


I wait not for the sun, nor do I fear the Hunt

The snows will come and the pack will ride

Yet my Queen will always bring Spring to my eyes


(written for Yule, December 2019)


-----


My words, they fall from my mouth 

They are clumsy and awkward

They know not how to dance

They know not how to sing


My words, they stumble from my mouth

They are as newborn foals

They wobble upon their toes unsure

They tumble to the ground in a tangle


My words, they wish to fly, to soar

For there is one whom they wish to charm

Her eyes are as the sun, bright, warm, glorious

Her smile is as the moon, gentle, pure, mysterious


My words, they wish to be flowers

Blooming as she walks among them

Their aroma a balm and a salve to her heart

Charming her to collect a bouquet for her room


My words, they wish to be rings

Bright shining rainbows to delight her soul

To slip upon her fingers as dear held treasures

For her to admire as they sparkle and glow


My words, they are but ink upon a page

They are flat, no gilding to bring them luster

But perhaps she will grant my words hope

Odd and small as they are, grant them hope


That they will be collected as flowers

That they will be treasured as rings

That they will bring joy to the Queen

 

(written for Kingdom A&S, Feburary, 2020)

 

-----

 

Oh sing, my Queen, in the silence of the night

Your melody of peace calms my racing heart

Oh sing, my Queen, to bring to me all that is right

Your voice brings me closer though we stand apart


Oh laugh, my Queen, in the darkness of my fear

Bell clear ringing calling the worshipers to prayer 

Oh laugh, my Queen, to bring all that is far near

Crystalline jubilation like pure diamonds so rare  


Oh dance, my Queen, in the empty space in between

The patterns of joy spark like stars in the velvet sky

Oh dance, my Queen, bare feet on the spring grass green

The music of your dance brings your distant hand nigh


Oh love, my Queen, in this time where I am lost

Your heart calls mine to stand strong and steadfast

Oh love, my Queen, when spring is covered with late frost

It is love, my Queen, which will bring us home at last

(written for a virtual court, April, 2020)


-----


It is, I think, touch that I miss the most

In this time of plague, this time of exile 

Not words of love nor songs of joy 

Nor stories lit by fire nor friendships’ smile


It is, I think, the hugs that I miss the most

In this time of dark, this time of fears 

I yearn not for crossed swords nor battles

I yearn not for shield bound arm nor spears


It is, I think, the soft silk of skin I miss

In this time of solitude, this time of cold

The warmth of flesh like the summer sun

Shining bright between clasped hands taken hold


It is, I think, this that I miss the most 

In this time of melancholy, this time of sighs

The press of bodies in friendship’s embrace

One for hello and a long one for goodbyes

 

(written for a virtual court, June, 2020)

 

----- 


Fate’s cards thin upon the table unfurled 

The Hanged One, the Devil, the high Tower

The trick is taken by a broken world

Hands lost in this frozen, lonely hour


When will we be dealt a new, brighter hand?

The Fool, the Hermit, the grim mask of Death

Fans out before us, shows where we stand 

Each shuffle brings cards to chill every breath 


If this is fate, then the deck we will stack

The Lovers, the beautiful World, the Sun

We will make our fate, nothing we will lack 

This trick, this hand, is now ours to be won.


Our Strength, our Temperance, our Empress fair, 

Give us resilience each new hand to bear.


(written for a virtual court, July 2020)

-----

 

There is in all things an ending

The night that follows day

The page that closes the book

The silence after the song


Give us then, the grace to end

Though we slowed our steps 

The labyrinth comes to its close

We exit where we began 


The Queen stands tall


In all things there is a beginning 

The day that follows night

The page that opens the book

The breath before the song


Give us then, the grace to begin

To greet the dawn with joy

Like sunflowers determined to follow the sun 

With peace in our hearts to forge a new path


A Rose stands tall

 

(written for Final Court, August 2020)

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