May 30, 2016 by phicks2012
There’s just no telling when, or where, or why I’m going to find myself writing poetry. I might be driving along minding my own business and find myself pulling over to jot something down on the back of a piece of junk mail, or I might be walking through the grocery store and scribbling lines on my grocery list, or I might actually be conveniently seated and equipped with pen, paper, and/or computer. Who knows!
Recently I was kicked-back in my office perusing photos posted on Facebook by various individuals, and taken at numerous SCA events — lots of colorful pictures (mainly taken at Wars) of battles, banners, pavilions, and exceptional garb and armor.
That was all, in this case, it took to inspire the verse below, and hopefully some will enjoy it!
The Clatter of Steel
The clatter of steel, and the whisper of silk,
And the banners that ride on the breath of the wind;
The swirling of music, and sleeves white as milk,
Touch our dreams by the wood where the time-rivers wend.
Pavilions that shelter illusions of gold,
Where we gather together all by the green field;
And pause to imagine our visions unfold,
Rise up brightly arrayed, by our wishes revealed.
Bold tabards of linen bear images known,
Valiant warriors bright-helmed and well-armored arise;
In tunics well-crafted and gowns softly-sewn
We create all the dreams that our hearts can devise.
The world that we know when the dreams pass away
Is not nearly so kind as the one that we weave,
Where majesty beckons and honor holds sway
In a realm built of legends in which we believe.
When we can imagine, our dreams can take flight,
And that world fades away letting magic be born.
A velvet-sleeved realm can be ours by right,
When we chose a dominion where honor is worn.
The world where we muster in chivalry’s name,
Holds us surer than shackles, in fealty and weal,
And draws us in homage, like moths to a flame,
With the whisper of silk and the clatter of steel.
[25 April, A.S. L, 2016]