Poem #1

I’m off to an SCA event today – medieval recreationist, for those who don’t recognize the acronym – so I thought that I’d load up a couple of poems that I’ve done in the past. I’m fairly fond of these; I think that they came out well.


Snow drifts down upon the hall,
As from the dusk comes lonely call
From goose-flocks chasing fleeing Sun;
For Winter’s race will now be run.

How cold and quick the days will be!
As bitter nights cloak mystery,
While tyrant winds past shutters creep
To seek entry, and slay our sleep.

But hearth is hot, the fire bright
To keep at bay the bitter night;
The hall is full of warmth and cheer
With song and dance, and good strong beer.

So every night the fires will burn
Until the Spring, and Sun’s return.
Let Winter howl out in the cold!
With merriment we shall be bold.

The style is in Ambrosian Quatrain, circa 11th century (thus, the rhyming couplets).

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