A Bard's Blog

Saint Joseph guide him well today, As he works, along his way Bless his plane and bless his axe, My husband joined may no saw take. Protect him well for his sake, The Lord himself was called a carpenter’s son, Dwell here with us for thought I fear, His worn hands are blessed indeed, Help us both for those you love, I pray in your spirit, guide him well. Amen. I wrote this for the Woodworker's competition at Bardic this year. I entered not to win but because I really loved the challenge of doing research, finding out period legends of Saint Joseph and getting to go to the library and use lots of different searches to find the material I was looking for. I loved it!

The history of the Fools my friends, The Fools of the barony Chosen wise by she who guides us well and sure And yet it’s said I pity all for the lineage of Fools. Faris, there was a brother Fool One of tale and wit And after him, Gerard there was Jongler in tradition of old. Saerelith and Alienor Halfwits both since they ruled as one, Sarah the Fool, how well named, For puns and deeds was her game. And lastly now of this noble line, Roiberd, a Fool that makes seven, If you will deine, To delight in the Fools We’ve danced and sung, It’s been our quest to bring smiles To our Baroness, if we’ve success We’ll only try to do it all again. The history of the Fools my friends, The Fools of the barony Chosen wise by she who guides us well and sure And yet it’s said, I pity all for this, our noble lineage of Fools. I created this for the Bard of Jararvellir competition at Warriors and Warlords, XIV. It was the only competiting entry on the history of Jararvellir. I wrote about what I knew best.

The Eagle and the Lion The Lord of he Beasts Met the Lady of the sky To discuss their estate Who was greater and why. “The Eagle” quoth she “I noble and good— We fly far from here, Beyond just the wood.” “The Lion” he said “Is brave and strong Ruler of justice Righting great wrong “Your pardon” she said “If I say Flight gives me freedom As I go on my way. “Nay!” said he I like where I stand As far as I can see This is my land!” She countered again “I can see beyond the sea What is your paltry distance To an Eagle like me? The two great foes Argued onward and on From one day’s sunset To another day’s dawn At last, they grew winded Stalemated they did cease In place of “best” Love did increase. There must we conclude That they both did win For in a year’s time— A Griffin! Written by Alienor Hathaway for Bardic Madness 2005 (A.S. 39) --Challenge when animals have a discussion

Last year’s circle A Phoenix in splendor In the embers of her glory The moment she soared in the dancing flames Ghost pirates Spirit ships Flickering, fleeing smoke. The tears, chills and rising call of loud belly laughs The stars were a little brighter Let the fire burn brighter And the voices be stronger May that fire join this one To those who no longer sit with us May sing with us in spirit. In the fleeting fire The rising voices And the Phoenix shall rise again. I wrote this poem around A.S. 40 in response to a Girl Scout tradition I heard about that includes using the ashes from a previous campfire so that it can be remember in the next.

The Maiden’s Tale Addition to the General Prologue A Maid there was young and fair Modest a maiden unbound in hair The daughter of the Knight’s sworn brother He was her guardian; she had no other. She was to be married above her degree To a Baron much older then she. Being full pious she feared to be wed Believing she would be sped She wore a gown of modest blue That had a medal of her name saint pinned too. She was to pray the Saint give her Aid Thus to Canterbury goes gentle younge Maid. Here begins the Maiden’s Prologue “Dear Mistress Agnes” said mine hostes We have need of a tale from thee now the most Can you tell a tale as part of our game? We pray you thou not us disdain. “By my honre” quothe she The tales I knowe are those of joy and courtesyie Those tales I heard at my guardian’s whim I heard them but to please him. Alas he wishes me to be wed, And I myself would rather be dead. I pray Saint Thomas to take my husband to be So he may leave this world of misery. Perhaps instead ...

Polaris How do I speak of a hero? When the bards of all times searched for that word. I am a Poet, A Musician, A Bard, A Warrior, An Artisan, A Lady, A Sister, A Daughter, A Friend, A Fool. But what of a Hero? My hero lies within the Maestros, Who have given me blinders so that I may see. My hero lies within the spirit of the lands, When the winter frost warms me. My hero lies within medicine, A scientific spiritual embrace. My hero lies within my family, The Kin and land one together. My hero lies within madrigals, The song in the story. My hero lies within stories, A Polaris beacon that has been more then a guide. My hero lies within sound, Echoes and voices of the Northlands. My hero lies within silence, A discussion between my brothers. My hero lies within the past, When I was alone. My hero lies within the present, The light that has been given. My hero lies within the future, In all I see before me. My hero lies within myself, Bec...