In my travels I have heard many a song, many a rhyme and many a tale. I have collected some here for your reading pleasure.
The Trison & the Milkmaid
Once there was a milkmaid fair
with dimpled smile and golden hair.
She worked all day and slept all night
yet never did she shirk or fright.
Then one day came a Trison strong
to farmer's field; chewing grass so long.
Her task was clear, though beast was strong
to milk the furdom all day long.
She heaved and hoed and tried to milk
Yet Trison did not want to spill
till one day carefree wanderer came
and laughed at maiden in a sulk
'Why' she cried tears in her eyes.
Wanderer laughed, a big fat smile.
Tis' not a cow that you be milking but a bull,
whose parts ain't shrinking.
Risen
In they rode, on hooves of thunder
Lances tall and blades to sunder.
A dozen menn, strong and true
fought the vanguard, though too few.
Heroic their fall, great their sacrifice
For in their deaths, a road to paradise.
Arkadia rose, yet mourned its loss
Bearing eagle, bear, lyon & cross.
Avenged they did their fallen brothers
As corrupt King was slaughtered but no others.
A new kingdom arose, from smoke and ash
A bright new hope, with little clash.
Arkadia risen, freedom wrought.
Corruption conquered but mourning loss.
Yet even shadow will be lifted
As future beckons, gods’ gifted.
Rovandil’s Folly
In darkened cellars worked a mann
Tattered robes and eyebrows gone
Strange kettles boiled and potions simmered
Weird scents and smells wafted to the rafters
He toiled and toiled, to brew his best
Yet never has he found the grail
The one thing which he desires most
Not lead to gold, but water to wine.
He sought ambrosia, nectar of gods
Yet all he got was dross and slop.
So, on he toiled, his quest not changed
Till one day haven brought avail.
An accident. Ha! What luck.
His latest potion did not suck.
It brought a smile to pock marked face
As each draught tasted Haven wrought.
He searched his notes, for fortune’s cause
Yet found his scribbles to be naught
But delirium’s madness given words
And moment’s sorrow did take hold.
Yet he remembered what he’d done
And so he set to work again,
To find ambrosia’s cause.
All through the night he worked
Testing, tasting, never slaking
Morning’s rays shone through the clouds
And all his work was done.
Yet sleep came after ambrosia’s taste
Leaving potion bubbling on the stove.
It burned and burned then went kaboom!
As laboratory was set ablaze and alchemist sent flying.
Wake he did among the rubble
All memory of potion gone
But in its absence a greater longing
To brew it once anew
Lost ambrosia, found and lost again.
