Fly Away

(If any of you read my first post, Sun and Shadow, you will find that this one is written on a similar theme. Once again, this is a poem that does not fit the fantastical bend this blog has been taking.)

The Wind blows

The grass grows,

The sun is high on the Hill,

The stream goes,

The heart knows,

That nothing now shall be ill.

In the sky,

There do fly,

Many birds and winged things,

They fly high,

In the sky,

And ev’ry one of them sings.

See glories,

Hear stories,

That were told since Creation,

Feel the breeze,

No worries,

Fly, carried by elation.

Soar away,

Far away,

Beyond the great horizon,

Go obey,

God the Way,

And strive till your life is done.

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This blog has taken a decisive fantastical bend, and so this poem does not really “fit the mood”, but, nevertheless, here it is.

Oh, drift away,

To a far mountain glade,

Listen to what the streams do say,

And see the glories God hath made.

The stars are swinging,

Angels singing,

The silver dew doth glisten,

The sleeping flowers listen,

The world is bright,

In the moonlight,

Sleep my child, sleep.


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The Saga of Songs, Stanza I

(This is the first stanza of an immense poem I have been working on.  I have finished up to Stanza VI, and the poem will probably stop at around Stanza XVI).



Once the Prince of Senteler

Was riding out upon adventure.

Fighting trolls and Dragonthings,

Seeking peril like the ancient kings,

Adventure of a mild sort,

He reasoned was the very bestest sport,


With him went the younger lords:

Hargenil Duke of the Western Fords,

Tanxil the Brave he went too,

And Urbaz the Earl of Jelkanu.

Amongst them the Prince was best,

For he did withstand many a test.


They vanquished many a foe,

That had wrought many a mighty woe:

Tartar Troll and the Crusher,

The Winged Things of the Colmanher,

The Thieves of the Southern Groves,

And foul guards of ancient Treasure Troves.


And though mighty they were thought,

Their strength could never have ever brought,

The downfall of darker things,

Which fortune luck’i’ly seldom brings,

To the lands of lesser men,

Who dare not near a true Dragon’s den.

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The Neverending Lay of Svenator

This is my first attempt at a poem that returns to its beginning, and can be repeated till the audience revolts (another, far better one can be found in J.R.R Tolkien’s Tales from the Perilous Realm under the title Errantry, which inspired the one below).

Svenator set out one day,

Treasure-laden, sword-bearing,

Adventuring, his days away,

Till mountains he was nearing,

Labouring he scaled them tall,

Overcome by weariness,

He climbed the great mountain-wall,

Sliding down the precipice,

Landing in the golden plains,

Surrounded by pleasant smells,

Walking through the waving canes,

Drinking from the sweetened wells,

Till foes came and fought one night,

Carrying him far away,

Though he put up a great fight,

To the cruel dark-watered bay,

Enslaving him to vikings,

Who chained him to a rough oar,

Who fought with other sea fiends,

And sailed to many strange shore,

And slipping his cruel chains,

He dived from deck to the waves,

Sinking to land of boat’s banes,

Into many dark sea-caves,

Fighting the dark sea serpents,

Water-dragons and Cracken,

Till he had but lost his sense,

And his great sword was broken,

Floating to the bright surface,

Climbing onto sandy shore,

Wandering without purpose,

Desolate and full of bore,

His sword lost and treasure gone,

Into dwarf and dragon realms,

Finding dwarves immersed in song,

Fashioning swords and great helms,

He learned their arts and keen sight,

But he soon did become bored,

And left them in a dark night,

Having fashioned a new sword,

He took again to questing,

And challenged a great dragon,

Fighting and monster besting,

Taking treasure in wagon,

Heading back to home at last,

Sailing across the wild seas,

And the oceans great and vast,

Wandering on weary knees,

Till to home he came finally,

To homely place, he did come,

Resting very happily,

Till it should come, the boredom,

And he would set out again,

Tired of the homely life,

And his adventures begin,

Leaving all dull daily strife.

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The Gathering of the Warriors

From the corners of the earth,

Gathered warriors great in worth:

Giles, knight of mountains cold,

Ard and Ain, the overbold,

Vesturor, the Dragonsbane

Onar, Great and not yet slain,

Falar, of the untold might,

Glynyar, swift and the far-sight,

Hagaleb, Syartinur,

Wüplas, mighty his hammer,

Baladan, silent and fast,

Ern the shipwright, great his mast,

Targlun, foul-forest feller,

Adar, old wise tale-teller,

Norgeli, great was his wrath,

Fyn, knower of every path.

Yungelar, his swift bow bent,

 Rergingarin, he too went,

Beldar and his brother Kar,

Delvin and his iron bar,

Urgarhas, goblin-cleaver,

Gharhorn, great dragonslayer,

From the East and from the West,

Gather did they, the world’s best,

Fair, Swift, Great, Strong, and Mighty,

Amongst them, none were flighty,

Some, they were wise and prudent,

Others, were yet a student,

But they all came, low and great,

Assembled, they did not wait,

But took council, to save all,

From the shadow, dark and tall,

Winded horn, unfurled banner,

To war they rode, with clamour,

To mountain-pit, the dark lair,

The evil gate, they did tear,

Cast down in ruin its walls,

They set to flame its black halls,

Its dark cruel lord, did they slay,

And returning on their way,

Home they came, from their great quest,

Home at last, forever rest,

And so they passed, the world’s best.

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Sun and Shadow

Sun in the leaves,

Wind in the trees,

Light weaves,

In the soft breeze,


Shadow and Peace,

Neither doth cease,

Laughter and tears,

Go on through the years,


Breeze doth blow,

Peace doth flow,

And I do know,

That nowhere is woe,


Life is a song,

That sings ever and anon,

On it doth go,

Beautifully so,


Glory to God,

For this Joyful Sorrow,

Glory to God,

For today and tomorrow.

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