A Collection of Poetry by Arnaud Godwin Halcourt

Heir to the Barony of Artois

c. 1881

Foreword by HIH Catherine Anastasia

Duchess of Westmarch

c. 1881
 

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Before you have the great pleasure of reading this collection of poetry, the author has asked that I pen a few words on the art of it therein. Though initially surprised by his request, I have decided to oblige.

The art of poetry is, in its most fundamental form, the act of exercising one's mastery over the written word. It can be a medium of expressing one’s deepest feelings or desires, but likewise has the potential to make a statement about the very fabric of the world around them.

A true poet knows how to weave their words in such a way that they touch those who behold them. Those which inspire one to think are among the best pieces of prose. True poetry should paint a vibrant picture within one’s mind, able to capture powerful scenes across the Grand Tapestry of Mankind.

These lovely pieces moved me when I first read them, and I sincerely hope that they might touch you as they did myself. It is my hope that by penning this forward that I might draw attention to this young poet’s work, as I seek to uplift and encourage the youths of the next generation to take up the pen themselves, as I once did.

✵ Observations from Magdalena ✵

Chimney tops pierce the sky

As blades once pierced the flesh;

Blood begets blood as

Peace begets peace, and once more

The blade turns to flesh

Not to plowshare

But, here there is no blade

Not one turneth on countryman or

Neighbor, for here everyone finds their

Neighbor is a countryman

The golden wheat is the colour of her hair,

And as soft as a summer’s day, is she

One can see her twirling in the acres of Acre

Spirit of love, freedom, youth

Ofttimes fleeting as a lover, is she

Rains wash away the pastel blue of sky, and

Muddies the vision of true men, until

The blade turns to flesh

✵ Sonnet for a Rainy Day ✵

As skies turn gray, and overland tears do flowth

The pines, and willows, ash and oak

In the feral wind do blowth

Underbridge or aqueduct one will cloak

E’er do the winds blow towards me

Without her comforting smile, and tender

Periwinkles gaze, I would be lost in a sea

Of cruelty, adrift without sight of splendor

Upon the shore, my legs giveth way to sand

And tears streak down my face, or perhaps

That is just the cruel rain, which over I have no command

This I realize as the water at my cold feet laps

That is why I love the rain,

For it reminds me there is so much left in life to gain.

✵ Ode to Starlight ✵

Ah, to be one bright star up high in dark

Skies, burning free above all pain and plight

Beyond the minds of mortal men; and hark

One hears a single church bell ring with might

Perhaps it rings for me and mayhap it

Rings out for you; ‘tis signaling some great

And constant denouement in a sun-lit

Life, now the stars have come softly out of late

I do not fear dark skies, like the void rare

I do not fear the ever-encroaching night

For the night is so gentle and soft; e’er

Illuminated Jewels; tender, bright

And will return on a celestial bridge of stars

To stay among the silver, golden orbs called stars 

Stars with you.

A poem for Astercalia

To accompany you

Under the starry night

observing the stars change

Along the sky at night

T0 observe the color changes in the sky

From dawn until dusk

Watching every star fall and

 Making wishes among them

I wish that you and I could stay here

And lay on the plush grass by the river

 For the rest of our lives.

If only you and I

Had no responsibilities to be 

Somewhere else in a few hours.

Oh my dear,

When can we come together here beneath the stars.

We can make wishes for them, you and I.

I wish only you and I were left in the world, 

And that everything else could fade away.

You and I 

Under the stars. Laying on the soft grass. 

Laughing about our past, about our future together.

If we can make it. 

My love, under the stars is where

You and i can be the one 

Until you and i can be united.

Written by;

Lady Katerina Angelika de Sarkozic 

My initial love

A poem for Astercalia 

I witnessed my parents' 

Ardent love as a child.

And I believed I understood

 What true love was.

They had a shared love.

Wish I had had the same result

But my, how I was mistaken.

Only affection my parents expressed

True lovers might hold it.

When I was a child, my father would constantly make joy

 Of my mother's cooking or her thinning, graying hair.

When she heard his jokes, my mother 

Would always get so upset.

But now I realize it was out of love.

I used to read books about love and how enchanted it was.

 It seemed magical for a very long time.

But perhaps I haven't yet met my soulmate.

Perhaps I haven't yet found the person who will be my initial love.

Written by;

Lady Katerina Angelika de Sarkozic 

Lovers from foreign lands

A poem for Astercalia 

We both.

Ought not to desire one another.

Our nations are at war.

However, we were not

For one another, our hearts ache.

The distance between us is tremendous.

But you see, my love, I've always loved you.

Whenever I get your letters.

My heartbeat flutters.

All I want is for us to unite.

The possibility of becoming what our hearts desire.

Is it foolish of us to wait to be together?

Our families and our nations are at war.

We risk death.

If the wrong person learns.

But even then, my love, we would remain close in the afterlife.

Will you wait for me, my love?

Will you wait for the day when we can truly be lovers?

On that day, we are no longer required to

 hide behind a pen and paper.

Keep yourself hidden and safe until then, my love.

For I am yours forever.

Written by;

Lady Katerina Angelika de Sarkozic 

ROSE

A poem for Astercalia 

Along the path, a rose is just sitting

Eagerly awaiting selection by the ideal companion.

That rose sits for days and days and months and months

 With the person it hopes

 To spend its final days with.

Searching for the ideal companion.

The ideal companion to call their own.

They are hoping that person will elicit emotions from them that they

 Never anticipated feeling.

Someone who was worth all the suffering.

Yet at that precise moment, the rose was chosen.

It is aware that they have found the right person.

Someone who would be able to treat them with greater respect than the person

Who came before them on the path

Someone who is capable of admiring that rose before its final bloom.

Someone who is aware that the rose was their flower.

The ideal companion and the rose are both in their final bloom.

Before they met, they each led different lives.

However, the end.

One and the same.

The ideal companion: the rose.

Lived a life they never imagined being able to.

Written by;

Lady Katerina Angelika de Sarkozic 

Dawn of Love.

In honor of

John Aurelian Novellen-Huntshill

1844-1867

It all started on that cold winter day in New Providence when I first arrived.

You, John Aurelian, were staring up at the Tuvmas tree.

Your cold gray eyes locked onto my dark blue eyes as I entered the city.

And we knew we were meant to be together from that point forward.

On the bridge to the palace, our friendship began. You inquired as to why I wore

a rose in my hair, and I simply replied, "I am the Sarkozy rose," to which you laughed it off.

Then, right before Tuvmas ended, you and I climbed the Tuvmas tree.

You knew I was afraid of heights, John Aurelian, but that didn't stop you from encouraging me.

Within THE VISCOUNTY OF GREENLAND, we had our own treehouse and a small club after a few years.

Oh, how simple those days were. If only we had known what was in store for us.

You, on the other hand, John Aurelian,  left.

When we ended things, you said you didn't want anything to do with me, my heart broke...

Oh, if we could just go back to our childhood and tell ourselves that everything would be fine.

Years went by and you went to Haense and did things and I stayed back in Oren and lived my life.

Becoming the court poet of Oren. 

One day you returned and we spoke about everything.

And the spark we once had relit and we acted like children again. 

John Aurelian, you and I were lovers from the start.

You finally asked me to marry you after what felt like years of me waiting.

Those six months felt like a blink of the eye. 

Then one day.. One sad day I see your body being carried into the streets of New Providence.

My uncle Edwin and King Frederick I was with your body.

I was with child with our three little triplets.

What a mess you've made of things, John Aurelian, but I wouldn't change a thing.

In New Providence, we put your body to rest. Everyone showed up to show their support, but I felt completely alone.

It was as if the best part of myself had vanished. But John Aurelian, I'm certain that I'll see you again.

Until that time comes. I'll never forget our dawn of love. 

Written by;

Lady Katerina Angelika de Sarkozic 

Written by Héloïse Thérèse de Rochefort nee Halocurt d’Artois

Penned on the 17th of Snow’s Maiden, In the year of 1877 

The Little Lady (1876)

 My bright little star

Hair kissed by the embers of old

Shining so brightly in my heart

Laughing and smiling

The frightful cold is no match

As your heart is golden and pure

My bright little star

Soul kind and pious

Many will tempt to tear you down

But you shall withstand their venomous glares

Victoire, thy brightest star

Hair kissed by the sun above

May you grow wise and beautiful

May you strive and love

The bitterness of winter is no challenge

As thy golden heart is embraced by flames

Follow the lord, follow the light

My beautiful little star

Stay kind and pious

Let none ever dim your flames

WITH LOVE,

The Lady Rochefort

Heloise of Artois

The Poems Of 1875

Lady Luciano (.1870)

Poems written and composed by Heloise Therese de Rochefort nee d’Artois.

1875

The Lady Of The Lake

Lies with lairs

The lady of the lake

Conspiring with sprites 

For her own delight 

She is swift and smooth

With her deck of tales

Be careful with her

Keep your tongue sharp

Be careful with her

Keep your heart close

As the lady of the lake

Reveals no truth 

Dust

Trust and dust

Go hand and hand

Dust is an annoyance

Trust lacks

Who can ever trust

Whenever it is like dust

Their timid Play

Is no match for I

As it is truth

Truth in its fullest

Trust and dust

Go hand and hand

Unhappy

Unhappiness

Such a bitter plague

I look to the streets

Seeing happiness

Passion shown

Loyalty expressed

From my high tower

I only feel doubt

My light fades

As his brightens

I am simply

Unhappy

WITH LOVE,

The Lady Rochefort

Heloise of Artois