Poetic account of Gorsedd 1101
by Sir Geoffrey Walker
On arrival a grand hall,
Rich in hearty foods and wines,
Company unsure, save for old friends from other places,
Gorsedd begun in ceremony.
Dancing is brought,
Angharad brings soft instruction to the improbable,
Lovers steal glances in closeness of hall,
Musicians jest in their tempo.
Masks interrupt unquiet spirits from unearthed graves,
Requests of plays to be completed,
Small pacts and favours from the communing,
Audience chilled as apparitions fade.
Host arrives, dressed in fine moneys worth of cloak,
Presence is felt as tightropes are extended for the brave or foolish to walk on,
Ladies of the land watch hungrily, circle to strike!
Thankfully music returns bringing peaceful appreciation.
Sleep is had by those that do,
Bardic challenge is begun,
Scribing, writing, composition all these things and more occur forthwith,
Local politic brings trouble calling.
What challenge to face our bardic festival?
Goblin sorceresses with murderous subterfuge,
Bandits, peasants and those rival houses vie for rich pickings of artifacts found,
And a strange procession late at night.
Vlad was he with his Skeletons arrayed each tuned to a note,
Barbaric but somewhat bemusing he was heard out by virtue of the cacophony created,
‘Till dishevelled outcry as ancestral powers great dismissed the note of E.
Vlad and his band were not treated well in blunted criticism.
Fine songs and wine abounding once more,
Many forged at translations or danced once more,
Bards free with warm friendships given and recieved as the night wore on,
Bandits hunted and captured.
Of the man who courted a lady fair, suspect! we cried,
And justified we saw as he was laid down for the evidence to be reviewed.
Necromancer was he and muderous intent he did have!
Placed in a cupboard and bound.
Then unjust ancestor moved to the camp,
Minor transgression was heard and unfair fight of mortal against anscestor was begun,
Mortality shone with virtuous prowess, although powers of hated ancestor overcame,
As he cursed my loves name I vowed for vengence.
Still later local politic become local feud,
Some transgressors captured and others escaped,
As Thruddites, Knights, Archers and Brave warrior maids force battle to victory,
going to rest now the weary as the ceremony closes.
Come to leave we do,
Prisoners are collected seeming every from nook and cranny while happy goodbyes are said,
All promises of reunions made we depart upon the long road,
For to be sure sleep beckons from elsewhere.