The Praise of Kaylah

(Upon being named a Vigilant of the Order of Defense)

By TH Laird Colyne Stewart, Feb AS 51 (2017)

Let me eloquently praise in rhymes

The might of worthy skill

That with sword can foe-blood spill.

Your frame, adorned in chosen pink,

Through the battle seen to slink,

Weapons ring the foes like chimes.

Kaylah, Rozak, you fight like fire

Consuming wood; you drink

In joy in field or shire,

Until you’ve had your fill.

Axe-adorned, most dire,

In the press you find your thrill,

Your smile seen by all.

Monarchs now demand you

Take on burden, kneel until

A collar drapes you. On the hill

And in the lists where renown grew

Teach and fight on ever higher

In your heart be held not thrall

Except to honour. Now with wink

Of defence be you master now

Never from the call to shrink.

Based on “The Praise of Mahākāla,” a Mongolian Buddhist poem written by Choiji Odser around 1305. I have tried to emulate the rhyme scheme of the first twenty-two lines as closely as possible.

And scarlet red his flag

TH Laird Colyne Stewart, December AS 51 (2016)

Winter white the prince’s horse,

And scarlet red his flag,

Dimpled snow belied his course,

‘Cross the heather and the gorse,

And scarlet red his flag.

His lance askew, tipping down,

And scarlet red his flag,

Tattered crest upon his crown,

Jupon stained with ruddy brown,

And scarlet red his flag.

Holes in armour gaping large,

And scarlet red his flag,

Scabbard empty of its charge,

Lost with spear and royal targe,

And scarlet red his flag.

Falling, quiet, into snow,

And scarlet red his flag,

Never now his love to know,

Left to die a death so slow,

And scarlet red his flag.

O Badrielle

O Badrielle,

You give advice so freely,

And you don't mock or laugh at anyone.

As puppets go your blood is rather steely,

And you have a hand that goes right up your bum.

People long to hear what you will say next,

They all yearn to be told just what to do.

You have no knees

O hear the puppet voices

O Badrielle!

O doll, whose view's askew

O Badrielle!

O Bad-, O Badrielle!

Her Royal Heritage

By TH Laird Colyne Steward, Lupine Bard, November AS 51 (2016)

My Queen has asked me to recite

Fair words about her forebears bright—

“My regal mothers, were they fierce,

And with sharp spears the foemen pierced?

Or were they kind and debonair,

With flowers in their braided hair?

And did they work with silk and thread,

Or were they bookish and well read?

Of horses did they know their way,

And could they lead the hounds that bay?

Oh tell me, poet, of my past,

And of my line, my mothers passed.”

“My fairest queen, hear now your lore,

So many others gone before,

Lo each of them were royal true,

And many were the things they’d do;

But there was one who did them all,

Who led her folk in field and hall,

With those of wolf and of the bear,

Met strong the tygre’s steely stare,

She rode her stead in battle’s hell,

And strode with spear and never fell.

She bled her blood, she worked her hands,

For betterment of all our lands.

With needle, thread, she knew her art,

And always giving from her heart,

She clothed so many ‘gainst the cold—

Yet, wait! For more there must be told!

Around her children laughing play,

While hounds, obedient, panting stay;

Within her rooms are piled tomes

Among her pins and fancy combs,

And red and yellow hair bound flowers,

From which she’s read in midnight hours.

So worthy she, so right and true,

A Pelican and Laurel too,

Countess, Duchess and Baroness,

Her name to you I will confess

‘Tis Adrielle, the Iron Queen,

Whose virtues I see in your mien.

Xristina, ruler, sovereign,

My duty now is duly done.”

During the reign of Siegfried II and Xristina, the people of Ealdormere were challenged to write a song, poem or story about one of the Queens of Ealdormere. I choose Her Grace, Adrielle Kerrec, who I feel epitomizes all that is noble within our Society. I wrote my poem as an amas, which was a genre in 7^th century Ireland that extolled the virtues of a local saint. 

Be Virtuous

The concepts behind the ideals of chivalry are not just empty words, and they do not apply only when we are playing our medieval game. They are real life values. They are called virtues for a reason. It is incumbent upon us all to show those values to the world, through our actions and thoughts in the real world.

Now more than ever.

AElfwyn Knighting Poem

To Mark the Elevation of AElfwyn Laganwuda into the Order of Chivalry

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, Sep AS 51 (2016)

Attend upon AElfwyn || axe-handed warrior

Woman of wolf-blood || winner of wars

Boar-branded carl || oft battled for high crown

Brought honour bright-handed || to kingdom and king

On hide-cloak or hilltop || at home or on far field

Faced she all foemen || who dared face her blade

For king she knelt truly || and bore his ring keenly

Like Beowulf boldly || battle-light taking

Gathered much mind-worth || which gladly she bore

Now earls erupt shouting || as high-king advances

Yell boldly her brave deeds || while beating on shields

Gracious gift-giving || king bands her arm brightly

Ring-giver right names her || as Ridda and cnicht

This was written to be read when Ælfwyn came out of her vigil to hold the field in a holmgang circle, but we were running late.

Minerva and Mars Debate Their Worth (Proelio verborum gladiisque—A Clash of Words and Swords)

By THL Roselyne de l’ Estrangere and THL Colyne Stewart

Written as part of the Medieval Debate Poetry class at War of the Trillium, July 2016 (AS 51)

I.                   Prolocutio [Prelude]

There once arose a fine debate—

The Gods of War, which was more great?

Mars, with his courage, sword and axe?

Minerva, with her greater tact?

[Enim contentio erumpit:

Quis aptior, di belli, sit?

Minerva maiore dolo,
Aut Mars virtute, gladio?]

[A debate broke out, indeed:
The gods of war, who was most fit?
Minerva, greater in guile,
Or Mars, with his courage/strength, his sword?]

            II.     Minerva

Oh, Mars, bold brother, god of war,

Who comes to hall adrape in gore,

What right claim you to sit that seat

At Father’s side, by mead and meat?

That is my place, that is my chair,

Begone, go back to battle’s lair.

         III.     Mars

Honour is mine, 'tis good and right,

By Jupiter to sit each night.

War is a sport for manly heart;

To weave, like you, is woman’s art!

It is for men to spill men’s blood;

Why has this not been understood?

         IV.     Minerva

Poor Mars, who thinks with little sword,

Believes his worth as mighty lord

Is one and all tied to his sex

And bellows while his muscles flex.

But war is more than savage skill—

There must be justice in each kill.

            V.     Mars

Justice is obvious to me—

Before my sword all cowards flee!

Why not upon my sex rely?

My rivals all are sure to die!

If you think not my view is right

Put off your toils, and let us fight!

      VI.   Conclusio [Conclusion]

So fight they did, the sparks did fly,

Till Jupiter called from the sky,

“My children, you must not compete,

For that is Juno’s promised seat.”

[Flagravit bellum, furenter,
Rex donec dixit Iupiter,

“Nolite pugnare, fili!
Sedem Junoni promisi!”]

[Battle broke out, furiously

Until King Jupiter said,
“Do not fight, (my) children!
I have promised the seat to Juno!”]

At War of the Trillium in 2016, as part of the Trillium War School, THL Colyne Stewart taught a class on medieval debate poetry. Tough various scholars have differing opinions on just what qualifies as a “true” debate poem, but for the purposes of the class a debate poem was any poem wherein two or more different points of view expounded on a topic (with two or three being the most common). The points of view in debate poetry were expressed by speakers which could be almost anything, including people, inanimate objects, personifications (of emotions, seasons, etc.), or religious figures. Sometimes a judge or judges would be invoked to settle the debate.

The class was a practical one, so the students paired up to write their poems together. As there was an uneven number of students, Roselyne was paired with Colyne.  The class decided to all write on the same subject to see how different approaches could be taken with the same theme. The subject selected was Athena debating Ares (Roselyne and Colyne decided to go with the Roman version of the gods). The class agreed to all write couplets in iambic tetrameter. Roselyne and Colyne elected to write their stanzas in six lines, with an introduction and conclusion of four lines. They also elected to invoke a judge, and decided to have the judge not agree with either of the debaters.

After the fact, Roselyne translated the prelude and conclusion into Latin which followed the poetic conventions agreed upon as well as a new literal translation back into English.