Tag Archives: #Chivalry

And the Onion Rings a Bell

And the onion rings a bell.

And the onion rings a bell.

Annabelle Lee

married a flea

They both lived happily together.

Annabelle was a witch

Had a seven-year itch

and sold unlucky heather.

The flea was here,

the flea was there;

he often sat on a wicker chair

One day,

a knight and his squire

rode on into the town.

The knight was young,

the squire old;

they had tarnished armour,

be they never so bold.

Annabelle Lee

abandoned her flea,

and ran off with Sir Cuthbert

(for that was the knight’s name)

the squire thus left,

he felt bereft,

and then a tickling in his right ear.

The flea said, “Squire?

Are you for hire?

I need a lift to the town.”

The squire replied,

“I’ll give you a ride,

to fetch yon bride,

that with Sir Cuthbert has recently flown,

where is his pride?”

The flea and the squire

set off at once,

through the winds, the rain, the snow,

as fast as their eight legs would go;

they travelled up hill,

and travelled down dale,

their task, it did seem,

was likely to fail;

as they’d set off in completely the wrong direction.

but, after a little course correction,

they did reach the town,

where the squire fell down

in a tiredness from all of his travels;

but the flea was fresh,

the flea was fit,

the flea did seek where Annabelle

and Sir Cuthbert did Sit,

and he challenged the knight to a duel;

the noble knight laughed

to see such a one

and said, “You’re a fool,

if you think you’re a match for a knight!”

the flea Felt ire at his laughter,

determined to win at all costs;

sharpened his sword,

and without warning word

did fling himself at the knight’s chest;

the knight parried once,

then parried he twice,

the flea was much stronger than thought;

the battle was fought,

the flea did win;

and Sir Cuthbert the knight,

he had to give in,

and return Annabelle to her home,

never more would Annabelle roam.

And the onion rings another bell.

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April The Twelfth.

April The Twelfth.

(Pre-Poem Bit)

April was the twelfth knight in her family;

mother, father, eight of her brothers, and her brave cousin Glance-a-Lot the Nervous.

Sadly, they all lived in a time when chivalry and jousting were not current things – Networking and Driving Cars, however, were – and so April and her family were anachronisms in this modern era.

Life can be so strange for a family – seven centuries earlier April’s ancestors had been deemed witches for trying to build a global business contact base and trying to fit engines to carts.

(Poem)

Many centuries ago

when the world was young;

and people lived in huts,

and gathered dung;

rode on foot, and lived short lives;

knew not how to read or write;

the most common motto of a knight:

‘He who lives, survives’

there was a family who

tried to build fast carts,

and network, too;

they were burnt as witches,

all but one;

who snuck away quietly,

counting glitches,

until those days were done;

many centuries later

she came forth

in a modern-day joust

somewhere in the north

of England.

Gawain & the Green Knight

Gawain & the Green Knight

(LWG Jan 2019 – Prompt:

“Choose a favourite animal or character from one of your favourite fairytales as a child and write a story about their home life”.)

Tales of the Fairy folk, or ‘Faerie. Tales’ , are the stuff of dreams. When I look back upon my childhood readings of such stories; I am surprised to find that I am still, today, drawn to the mysterious tales; especially the one of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight; although not a real faerie story as such, it has all the elements that are required to make it so.

Sir Gawain as a lowly night of King Arthur’s Round Table, is the only Knight at the feast that deigns to take up the challenge of the eerie Green Knight.

Well, we all know that story – or, we can Google it – and so I shall elaborate upon it no more; but, we know little of Sir Gawain’s childhood, where he was surrounded by chivalric values and Merlin-inspired magic.

This is that tale.

Gawain was also surrounded by half-brothers, brothers and ne’er a sister in sight – so Gawain was treated as the ‘girly’ of the gang.

Agravain, Gaheris, Gareth, and Mordred all lorded it over Gawain (up until the Green Night Incident, that is) and being brought up as the youngest and the least thought of made Gawain the man that became the knight that became the legend.

Anyway, it didn’t help his confidence at the time; but, they do say that strength is born through adversity; and, so, by jousting against some pretty daunting opponents (and beating increasingly more of them) a boy became a man.

A typical day for the squire version of Gawain (or Gwalchmai in the original tongue) was to do a series of chores for his siblings, in the manner of cleaning out the steeds, checking and repairing any reins, saddles, general horse tack; polishing the armour that his brothers so unerringly left in an awful state (we shall not mention the blood spatters here), honing knives, swords and all manner of strange weapons for inflicting hurt and death upon the foe ( or defenceless dragons- always remembering that a large dragon is rarely defenceless). As well as those chores, Gawain had to set fresh bedding, empty and clean the gozundas (not a nice job) and ensure that the rooms of his supposed peers were clean and tidy in readiness for their return from another day of play-fighting, fighting, and apres-fighting (which involved much feasting and drinking… and often some more fighting, but only of the playfully inebriated kind – people rarely got hurt at these after-show get-togethers).

Gawain was not unhappy with his lot. Insert joke here about Lancelot or Lot’s Wife – ‘Much Ado About Edith’ could have been William Shakespeare’s play on these words – but, that was for the future.

Moving on, Gawain also had to fit in some schooling: reading, writing, numbers up to a hundred (learning more than a hundred made you appear a swot), manuscript studies, prayer and singing (in the chapel) and etiquette (which Gawain’s brothers seemed to have little of when it came to treating their little brother with any kind of respect – Mordred was by far the worst, he was a stinker (in many ways).

All this left Gawain little time for his hobbies of music and poetry (‘Sissy stuff!’ his brothers would say – ‘man up!’ was often their cry to him if they caught wind of his rhymes or heard his wistful tunes upon the lute). and Gawain was sad at his treatment, but resigned to his situation.

Anyway, the brothers were often away questing, never taking Gawain ‘He’s too young!’, ‘Will a poem kill a dragon or stop a Knight’s lance?’ and so many other taunts – they didn’t want to baby-sit the young Gawain.

They never really saw how Gawain was growing and learning. He would become a brave and fearless Knight one day – better in so many ways than all of his obnoxious brothers.

But that was in the distant future – for now Gawain brushed away the filth and shone the second-best armour until it gleamed.

“Ho-hum,” Said Gawain

I may be small, but I’m not dumb.”

and on it went…

… until one day Gawain met a certain Green Knight.

The Thin King Man (A tale of Kingly Exploits) W.I.P.

image

Chapter 1 (including introduction)

To actually put pen to paper!
This is novel.
Try again with second pen (it pays to have backups).
This is a novel.
And, as you can see, my handwriting is not of the best.
It started off well; but, my neat handwriting ‘cannot’ keep up with my brain.
There is a ‘twenty-minute clarity clause’ to my words – after that time as elapsed, even I have some difficulty in working out what I have written. You can probably see that by now.
Which is why I prefer to write most of my words on my mobile – a laptop is okay; and a PC is alright; but, they are not that portable; and my ideas hit me at any ‘time of place!’

(Here I make a note of the phrase ‘time of place!’)

So, I sit here in the railway town thinking what to write.

‘Thin King Man’

The ‘Thin King’ was a man.
Most kings are – ‘men’ not ‘thin’ I mean.
He ruled his kingdom with a rod of steel…
…that was exactly one span in length; a ‘span’ being the distance from the king’s outstretched fingertip of his left hand, to the outstretched fingertip of his right hand (with arms stretched sideways, of course). This was decided many ‘kingly’ years ago by Bilasti the Mathematical; and has caused many problems over the centuries by the simple fact of kings being mainly of a non- standard stature.

However, that is a matter for another story, another time – a time other than the one that we have here, today.

The ‘Thin King’ was young and keen; he had been younger and less keen; but, Time can change a man – even a king.
Shall we give this ‘Thin King’ a name? It seems a little rude not to. We shall henceforth call him by his given name – that is, he was given it as a small boy and kept it safe since then – which name is (roll of drums and fanfare (as befits)… Kiriel! Which is as ‘made-up’ as it sounds; no kings let their real names be known, as evil beings could make ill-use of the knowledge.
So, Kiriel, was young, thin, and a king.
Was he married?
No.
Was he kindly?
Actually, he was.
Was he strong enough to be a good king?
Not yet.
(Have you noticed this a little bit like a Q and A session – exactly like one, in fact).
So what is this story about?
I’m glad you asked. This story is the story of Kiriel’s search for a queen; his sending off of ‘Knights of the Realm’ (a rather grandiose term for a few adventurous types that desired to see the world) many of whom actually had seen the world and died from its diseases and battles.
And this story is ultimately about Kiriel’s finally getting up off of his oversize throne to go and find a queen for himself; but, disguised as one of his own servants. “I’ll call myself ‘Knight of the Realm, Sir Lanky-Lot (which was a huge pun for a ‘Thin-King-Man’.

TBC