»
Archives
»
Open Poetry #15
»
The Traveler's Tale #52
| Open Poetry #15 |
|
The Traveler's Tale #52 |
|
|
John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas 
|
Tale 52 Say, laddie, can ye gi' a mon- Directions to an inn? Where weary men find lodging, Ere travelin' on agin? A place wi' lads o' me own ilk- No strangers to the blade. In mail an' leather, not in silk- An' fightin' be their trade. A place where questions be not asked- And pedigrees ab' ored- An' men are judged by strength o' thew- An' 'ow they use a sword. An' all the corners do be filled- Wi' careful, watchful men- Wi' pistols drawn, an' blades to 'and- They be me kith an' kin. An' more than 'alf, I lay, are Scots- We be an 'earty breed. Wha' fight for glory, die for gold... Fer foreign banners bleed. What's 'at ye say? Aboot a mile? Beyond yon shady vale? Tonight I'll toast me fallen friends- And spin a Traveler's Tale. |
||
| © Copyright 2001 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
inot2B Member Elite
since 2000-09-18
Posts 2205Arkansas |
Ah yes, and if the tale was pleasing to the crowd a free ale and bed was normally offered. And Sir you would be taken care of every where you stopped, for you are the best of all when it comes to tales. |
||
Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Slinger~ You do this sooooooooo well~ The pleasure is mine to read~ *smiles* ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
