Fun to write – despite my complaints – but you have to be in the SCA to get all the references. I’m loading this one up so that it’ll pop into existence once the person for whom it’s written has discovered that she’s being elevated to the peerage.
Some folk might think this choice of song
Was oddly chose, and strangely made;
For when it’s used to honor Muse
It’s picked by those who’d sing of love.
The choice, I’d say, is good and right:
I sing of love – love for her beer.
Though beer – yes, even Laurel’s beer –
Might not be seen as worth a song,
It is a truth that that’s not right;
For there is Art in things well-made
And every Art that’s made with love
Is worthy subject of a Muse.
It’s also known that when bards muse,
Our weighty words are borne by beer,
So those who craft the drink we love
Know well their Art did fuel our song;
Although the music we then made
Was sung in keys that were… not right.
Besides: what is the proper, right
And pious way to call the Muse?
When Greeks a pantheon they made
No place was set for Muse of beer.
And so was lost devoted song
That might have praised this brew we love.
So it is luck to find that love
Of goodly beer can fuel a song;
It lets us set the scales a-right,
For though no hops may wreathe a Muse,
We are inspired by goodly beer,
And through its boon our songs are made.
And now, as well, a Laurel-made
This happy day, with all our love.
Not just for cunning skill with beer
Has now her status been made right.
Though long-delayed, we must all muse –
The wait was shorter than the song.
A Peer is made; I think it right.
May she serve muse with hoppy love!
Done is my song. Where is the beer?