“The Castle”

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November 29, 2019 by phicks2012

The BLOG originally scheduled to be printed on the 26th of November was a bonified and unrepentant rant, so I skipped it. You can thank me later that you didn’t have to read a tirade about insane power bills and how I had to secure my thermostats again (under lock and key) to get them back under my personal control. 😦

Note: the culprits were not gremlins, brownies, house elves, domovoi, kotihaltia, trasgu, hobs, gabija, or any other “unappeased house spirits” from myth. Just for the sake of obscurity, I’m inventing a new type, and calling them the cydletywyr, and leaving it at that — for now. πŸ˜‰

I considered writing about something else and posting that instead on the 26th, but to tell the truth I felt considerably more inclined to binge-watch the first season of Miracle Workers — which I previously had not gotten around to watching — On Demand, while working on newsletters, heraldry, and a killer pot of chicken gumbo that was ENTIRELY on my diet — preparing in advance for the excesses of Thanksgiving dinner?

Today I won’t print it either. Instead, I’m including yet another original poem. This one was written seven years ago about my home — declared by local teenage urban myth (and we all know just how reliable THAT can be) to be haunted — and can only hope for minimal approval.

This was printed several years ago in our local SCA newsletter, The Equinox, but I don’t think I’ve run it yet in this BLOG and am simply feeling too lazy right now to check πŸ˜‰


The Castle
(Shakespearean Sonnet)

Five towers rise on ranks of mortared stone;
Defiant; tall in beauty and defense,
With spired peaks to pierce an azure dome
And guard within the dreams of innocence.
Denying legend and defying fate;
The halls arch clean of spirits rumor made,
And stairways climb, and hearts anticipate
The wonders and the heights that dreams have made.
Upon the hearths are warming blazes set,
And kettles rich with toothsome viands seethe,
For hospitality we’ll not regret
And in the pure of heart we will believe.
From hope and pure imagination grown;
Five towers rising, born of mortared stone.

[12 October, 2012]

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November 2019


I am an active, outgoing person interested in all sorts of things and all sorts of people! I'm constantly discovering new interests, and expect that to continue right into the grave!

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