Black Swan's Poems Volume I

[_RoyalCrafter_ 3241]

Black Swan's Poems

Volume I

All poems are authored by Sterling Percy Amador

Published by Blue Orchid Publishing

 

 

 

Arrival

Through rain, I came by cart to see the land,

With me, a blade, the cross and book I had.

A fresh new start, to serve the lord’s command,

With men and knights, in arms with plate and plaid.

 

The land was wet with sweat and full of gourd,

A scent of earth and fate hangs strong above.

My hand took up the sword to strike fear’s cord

I stood alone with dread filling my gloves.

 

The gates soon shook, to grant me way inside.

I turn my head to see my house, a hut.

My bile turned grey, but I will keep my pride

I plant myself, a tree, an oak from nut.

 

Here, bravery will be my spouse.

I cannot fear, I’m not a mouse

 

 

 

Ode to Jousting

The boom of hooves rung in the air

Full rows of people cheering with glee

Knights mounted on their steeds with flair.

One must lack fear and keep their creed.

 

The weight of arms bears honour and word.

A horse’s speed is not a joke,

A flowing mane of grace that’s blurred.

Your lance will miss and shall be broke.

 

One falls to the list field in pain

Men yell, bells ring, dogs bark, ladies sing.

Get up and train till night again

Stand tall with pride, try more with wings.

 

 

Drunkard

There once was a man with a frown

With drink, his sorrows he drowned.

 

He took a big swig,

Killed the priest’s pig,

 

He’s now been made a clown

 

 

 

Axe

From dusk till dawn I swing my axe till fatigue,

My muscles and bones ache but it is worth it.

I will rise in strength, in faith, in skill and league,

With axe raised, I smite ye, till thine shield is split.

 

After a day of training, it’s time to rest,
Tomorrow I’ll wear proudly my house’s crest.

The axe rests by my side at night like a guard,

After I’m awake, I’ll pray in the churchyard.

[Cheese 2304]

Ilaria Amador is proud of her newphew's writing :)

[Orphvius 424]

Edlynne Mara Amador’s favorite poem was the one with the drunk man and the dead pig. The lass could appreciate the old and near forgotten taste of bacon rinds simmering on her tastebuds as the ‘morrow’s light crested the treetops. Now, she reckoned, the only taste she could clearly remember would be that of copper; as though she had been sucking on a coin when she had passed away..