Where the grey mist slowly swirled.
His scarlet cape billowed behind
Like a banner would unfurled.
His autumn hair hung around his face,
As pale as the waning moon;
And he rode like a demon in the night
'Lest daylight come too soon.
His heart was thunder in his breast
When his horse broke through the trees,
And he saw her there with her golden hair
Stirring softly in the breeze.
A warm smile played upon her lips;
He basked in the glow of it,
As he sprang from his horse, down by her side,
And he took her hand in his.
They lay in the grass beside a stream
That gurgled merrily;
As she stroked his hair she sang a song
As ancient as the trees:
"Oh, where do the swans go when they fly
And where do the white doves gather?
Where are the ravens, where are the crows
When the birds all flock together?
Where is my love? When will he come
To fulfill my heart's desire?
Not 'til he's traveled the earth around
And waded the sea of fire."
When the song was done she kissed his cheek
And the prince fell fast asleep.
He dreamed of the maiden he had met
That night in the forest deep.
A distant voice like the rushing wind
Called out the young man's name,
"Pray, listen closely to these words
If the maiden you would claim.
Bewitched she was by a withered hag,
And bewitched she'll always be,
'Til a lover comes to break the spell
With wisdom and bravery.
Unravel the riddle of the trees
And complete the tasks they cite.
But a catch there is, as in all things,
Must be finished in one night."
When he woke the sky was splashed in gold
And his lady love was gone,
While above him flew a silver bird
Shining brightly in the dawn.
As it circled 'round the golden glade
He leaped into his saddle
And watched it as it winged it's way
Above the forest's mantle.
Far, far away he rode many days
Through woods, 'cross fields and plains,
Up rocky slope, down mountain paths,
Through sunshine and the rains.
Each day he followed the silver bird,
Each night the maid came to him.
She stroked his hair and sang her song
'Til fitful sleep fell o'er him.
Then by and by, he came to a glen
All green with grass and ferny;
A golden haze hung' round the trees
And a waterfall was churning.
Above his head a dark cloud formed;
He thought the world had ended,
For the voice was terrifying as
A million birds descended.
Every kind of flying fowl
Was among the rainbowed mass
That roosted on each branch and rock
And settled in the grass.
The sun dropped down beneath the rim,
The maiden stood before him.
The shadows wrapped them in a cloak;
The pale moon shone above them.
He held her close, his heart beat wild,
To have the maiden near.
"Here in this place alone may I speak,
For the spell is weakest here."
She told him of the withered hag
In a castle made of stone
Rising above a sea of fire
In the land of Arradrone,
And the magic boots she possessed
That gave the wearer great speed;
They were waterproof and fireproof
And rose up to the knee.
"You must find these wonderful boots,
For with them you may fulfill
The riddle of the ancient trees
And break the witch's spell.
"Then away I go to Arradrone
When the sun gives it's first light."
At dawn he leaped onto his horse
And rode with all his might.
About midday he entered the gate
Of the land the old witch ruled.
It was dark and dead, in grey and black,
With slimy streams and pools.
At last he came to an old stone well
Where the water tasted sweet,
But the moment that it touched his lips
He fell heavily into sleep.
He awoke imprisoned in a cell,
Deep in the witch's dungeon.
She came with a sword hung on her hip,
In her hand was a bludgeon.
Her face was yellowed, seamed with age,
Her bilbus eyes were black.
Her stringy hair hung limp and grey
Across her crooked back.
"My slave you are, my slave you'll be,
'Less you prefer your grave.
It matters not to me," she said.
He replied I'll be your slave.
Through weary days and weary nights
He worked with ne'er a rest,
And all the time his eyes would search
Dark corners for his quest.
And when a fortnight had elapsed
He stumbled 'cross the prize.
He hid them 'neath an old straw stack
Awaiting the come of night.
At last the sun fell from the sky
And the hag went off to bed.
He took the boots from their hiding place
And around the earth he sped.
When he returned he waded the sea
Of flames that ringed the stone.
Then with his sword he hacked the door
'Til it gave way with a moan.
The sky in the east turned gold and pink;
There was morning in the air.
In the great hall flew the silver bird
And he followed up the stairs.
Down twisted, winding, narrow halls,
Up steep, forbidding stairways,
Fear was with him every step
As 'ginst time and fate he raced.
Breathless, he reached the upmost room
Where the door stood open wide.
He drew his sword and looked about,
Then slowly stepped inside.
In the center of the chamber stood
A bed of silver satin,
And on it lay, as still as death,
The body of the maiden.
The silver bird flew 'round the room,
Then landed on her forehead,
Just as a glowing slice of sun
Burst over the horizon.
In a flash of light the bird was gone
And the maid opened her eyes.
Everything the witch had made
Dimmed and faded 'neath the sky.
Alone they stood, back in the glen,
And his horse was by their sides.
They rode away to his palace
Where he made the girl his bride.
The Unicorn
A flake of snow fell from the sky
When Gerabald gave his last sigh,
And all around the icy hall
A cloud of silence shrouded all.
The knights looked down in helplessness,
Their weapons useless in their hands.
The unicorn sprang from her bed
To see the marble face of death,
A phantom she could never know,
Nor could she understand.
The awesome wonder that a king
So great be changed to this cold thing.
She laid
her head upon his breast
As she oft' did when he, at rest,
Would waken, laughing in her love,
But no familiar twitch there was,
Just cold unfeeling stone lay dead.
She cried, returning to her bed,
With golden tears that gently flowed
For love of mortal man.
The Warrior
He was once baptized
In fire and ice
And the mark of the snake was on him,
For he wore the brand
Of the Cobra Band
And the power of Duh-key-um.
Once the long, cold nights
Half hid his might;
He was welcomed by the shadows.
Then he stood in the sun
And the seal of Glun
Was fastened to his forehead.
And he knew too soon
That the kiss of doom
Would press hard lips upon him.
There was no escape
From the hand of fate
For his destiny rode to meet him.
And meet they did
Upon the lid
Of the Eye of Mare-uh-chee-um.
His blood was froze
When the Yurrock rose
From the great black pit beneath him.
The day star glowed
Like a scarlet rose
In the purple sky above them,
But they saw it not,
Their eyes were locked
On the Altar of La Teeum.
For on it lay
The golden blade,
The sword of the Delton Temple;
Forged by gods
In the age of Taw,
It was known as "The Invincible."
The Yurrock hissed
As his pale gray fist
Made a grab for the golden prize,
But the warrior threw
His dagger true
And it plunged deep in it's eye.
The Yurrock shrieked,
It was hell to see,
As it writhed in it's agony.
It's long tail thrashed
'Til the rocks were smashed
And flung to the distant sea.
Then lightning flashed,
The thunder crashed,
As the warrior held aloft
The flaming sword.
The Yurrock's roar
Gurgled down to a strangled cough.
It read it's doom,
The chill of the tomb,
In the warrior's yellow eyes.
"You can't afford
To use that sword;
The wielder too must die!"
"Then die I shall,
But hear me now,
O' Yurrock 'fore I do
I'll speed you well
Back down to hell,
You filth that Evil spewed!"
With the rage of fire
And the force of Dyre,
He clove the beast asunder.
Then in a flash
Rock turned to ash;
The warrior sank down under.
He was sacrificed
In fire and ice
For the mark of the snake was on him.
He wore the brand
Of the Cobra Band,
Born in the power of Duh-key-um.
The Young Lion
The young lion roared,
And they cleared the floor,
As he sauntered in the room.
He was manhood's flower
And he reeked of power,
For his age was in full bloom.
His golden mane
Flowed wild, untamed,
And his piercing eyes were cold.
With shoulders broad,
This fierce young god
Was the hero tales foretold.
He was brave and bold,
Like men of old,
And he eyed them with disdain.
In his arrogance
He forced a dance
With the Lady of Bermain.
Her protests fell
Upon deaf ears
As they whirled past her husband's bier.
He held her tight
Upon that night
And the stars and the floor were theirs.
The young man smiled
As her sobs grew wild
And her face grew ever greyer.
The mourners cringed,
She shrieked, "Revenge!"
Still held by her husband's slayer.
Then boldly in
Came the dead man's kin,
Their sword points dully gleaming.
The old men cheered,
The young men jeered,
The women were all screaming.
They came with a rush,
The young lion thrust
The widow from his path.
She fell to the floor
As he roared once more,
His sword leaped in his hand.
The church bell rang
While their weapons clanged;
He fought like a madman cursed.
His rage increased,
Fury unleashed,
'Til he swore his head would burst.
In each one's eyes
He saw his wife,
In blood lying where she fell.
His heart inflamed,
He spoke her name
As he sent each one to hell.
There was blood on the floor
And blood on the door;
The brothers all were killed
When he left the room,
Silent as a tomb,
His vendetta now fulfilled.
Thought the Sergeant to Himself
"Never far away, it seems,
Is the end of all my dreams,"
Thought the sergeant to himself
As he stood shouting.
"They send orders now and then,
Still the officers are men,
And they often make mistakes
When they start doubting.
And an NCO can know,
But he cannot tell them so,
For it simply isn't done
In this man's army.
He just marches through the gate
With his heart all full o' hate
And his thoughts all tempest tossed
And ragin' stormy.
It's hard to make 'em go
When every man there knows
That the officer in charge
Is a disgrace;
And it's him who's payin' dear
'Cause the order wasn't clear
And the Captain ain't too sure
About the place.
Some might come through this alive,
But it's most of us who'll die;
A sacrifice to a mistake,
We vainly fought,
But when it's all said and done,
It's the officers who've won
The bleedin' war, the rest of us
Are just forgot."
Through The Ages
Their mouths were hollow graves
That beckoned fools,
Like pawns on great black boards,
Like silvered tools;
They reached their gnarled hands
'Cross spans of time
To pluck from sanctuary
Shattered mimes.
With soured breaths they blew
Great clouds of dust
That rose in the scarlet sky
Of morning's blush.
From it mammoth stones were formed
And temples raised
With finely chiseled altars
Where jesters prayed.
Empty bodies without souls
Spoke empty lines
While mumbling catchecisms
To the divine ---
Some obscure puppet, well hid
From prying eyes;
All bow before and worship
Their great lie.
They laughed in merriment
To see the fools
Led astray so easily;
Truth overruled
By lust and greed, by fantasies,
By glory's dream,
By magnificent idols
With golden gleam.
Still, the ages blew away
Each grain of sand
These monuments, once great,
No longer stand
Up to the sky, but cower
Low and humble;
Now the once proud Faithful question,
Fall and stumble,
Far above the crowd they frown
In disbelief,
Not able to understand
They no longer lead.
Their falsehoods cut far deeper
Than a serpent's tooth,
For wisdom will win out;
Truth leads to truth.
Through The Fire And The Fury
Through the fire and the fury,
With passions all emblazed,
We go marching off to glory;
Free a world that's been enslaved.
And there isn't any question
In our hearts or in our minds;
We know we'll be victorious,
We have right on our side.
Inside our hearts are singing
As we tramp the dusty roads,
Never wondering where they're leading,
We just follow where they go.
Yes, we won the final vict'ry,
But it came as quite a shock;
In our innocence we never heard
Of calculated loss.
Now the crosses are all standing,
Gleaming white beneath the sun,
And there's memories of lifetimes
That are crammed into just one.
My soul is sick and weary
From things I saw and did,
But they marched us home as heroes
So we keep these feelings hid.
Two Winds
Two winds blew out of the north and east
On the fourteenth day of St. Simmon's feast
And there came from the south a fearsome beast
Who's howl shook the earth and the sky.
The drums thundered and trumpets blew,
The gates were flung wide, and passing through,
An army, all clothed in coats of blue,
Galloped forth with their spirits high.
Their cold metal swords were all gleaming,
While their scarlet banners were streaming
And they rode into battle not dreaming
That men such as they could die.
There was blood on the plain, blood on the hill;
The army lay strewn 'cross the battlefield;
Prayers went out for a warrior with skill
The curse of the beast to defy.
Then from the ranks of the drunkards rose
A challenger, wrapped in leather clothes
With a golden sword, polished 'til it glowed,
Hung heavy on one side.
The villagers stared as they held their breaths,
Looking straight into eyes as black as death,
But they knew they were sending their very best,
So, they nodded, satisfied.
The warrior lay crumbled, battered and torn,
And shattered, the golden sword once borne
With pride, now tossed aside with scorn.
Young Lions and Southern Pirates Page 3