Contest Topic

Posted: December 18th, 2012 under contest.

Should have done this at once…this is the topic under which to post your poetic genius as a comment.    We already have one entry,  under the Good News header, but please repost as a comment here, for the benefit of your lazy hostess, so she can find them all in one place.


  • Comment by Jet — December 18, 2012 @ 8:38 am


    Through all the long tales
    Two Daemons battle fiercely
    Story and Plot, war

  • Comment by Sharidann — December 18, 2012 @ 9:08 am


    My contribution…

    I apologize for any weird language, choice of words and other grammatical or stylistical inadequacies. 🙁 English is not my mother tongue.

    It ought to be a sonnet… don’t laugh. 🙂

    There was a boy named Alkieri
    His temper best described as fiery
    Ripped from his mom’s arms taken away
    The direst step in his life’s journey!

    The skin of his back most cruelly whipped
    The joy in his eyes almost vanquished.
    Through a most timely rescue saved from death,
    Halveric’s kindness restored his faith!

    A paladin of Gird recognized
    His true lineage, offered herself
    And thus kept ancient evil mesmerized!

    As evil struck at King Alkieri himself,
    His Grandmother came to the rescue
    Not one minute early, right on cue!

  • Comment by Leo — December 18, 2012 @ 10:38 am


    Hunters Heartbeat – Leo Sorel 10/17/12

    “Thrum, Thrum” from the mountains dug deep,
    Comes the Earth’s heartbeat;
    Low and deep, does the sensation creep,
    Into the soul, does the Earth’s wisdom seep;
    “Thrum, Thrum” from out of the woods,
    Comes the Horned Rider;
    Loud and fast, do the hooves ride the winds,
    Into the heart, does the knowledge come;
    “Thrum, Thrum” from out of the skies,
    Comes the Wild Hunt;
    Dark and quiet, does the chase cause panic,
    Into the mind, does the power advance;
    “Boom, Boom” crashes the thunder, from on high,
    Comes the Sky’s heartbeat;
    Heavy and hard, does the lightning strike
    Panic spreads, far and wide;
    “Boom, Boom” crashes the mighty god’s fist,
    As he sends the hounds on their journey,
    Looking for their quarry;
    “Boom, Boom” clashes the shield with the spear,
    As Herne calls to his fell companions;
    “Bring Me These, and Bring Me Those” he calls
    “Boom, Boom” does horse stampede,
    With a mighty roar, does the horn sound;
    For the quarry has been found;
    “Wind and Rain” does crash,
    As the lightning flash
    And the quarry tries to dash
    Amongst the bole and boulder
    Does the quarry try to hide
    The Hounds corner those who have been caught;
    And the Horned Rider and his Spear flash,
    And the quarry, now caught and slain
    Becomes another of the fell companions
    In this age of Darkness and of Change
    For the Season has come to an end
    Until the Hunt Rides Again

  • Comment by Rowanmdm — December 18, 2012 @ 12:00 pm


    For some reason I’ve been thinking about all of the kids Dorrin is now responsible for. I’m not a good poet, so I’m really happy Elizabeth isn’t choosing the ARC on merit.

    Heirs of evil past
    Scions of what is to come
    Which path will they take?

    Old road of power
    Choose examples carefully
    New road of duty

  • Comment by Kerry aka Trouble — December 18, 2012 @ 12:38 pm


    Kieri, Arcolin and Dorrin
    With Paks, once went a-warrin’
    Only Stammel is blind
    but no-one can find
    the necklace named after Torre(n)

    Please forgive the lousy rhyme, but I have this thing for limericks.

  • Comment by Dave Ring — December 18, 2012 @ 12:40 pm


    How about a riddling haiku, suitable for the tavern:

    A flying insect —
    can you swap just four letters
    and run out of ale?

  • Comment by Tuttle — December 18, 2012 @ 12:48 pm


    Inspired by two of my favorite images of horses; Paks galloping away from Kieri and the opening scene of Conan The Barbarian (The one with Arnold).

    Hoofs tossing up snow –
    Sunbeams in a winter grove

  • Comment by Jenn — December 18, 2012 @ 2:30 pm


    Seasonal haiku as my official entry:

    In deepest winter
    the past to a king will speak
    while death battles life

    A tavern double limerick in honor of the webmistress.

    There once was a spider on the wall.
    It sadly happened to fall
    into a glass of cider
    of my dear old aunt Ida.
    Tragically she drank it all.

    Now my dear old aunt Ida
    is deathly afraid of a spider
    and we all knew she’d yell
    if any dared tell
    that the spider in the cider’s inside her.

  • Comment by Jenn — December 18, 2012 @ 2:31 pm



    Love the sonnet.

  • Comment by Dave Ring — December 18, 2012 @ 4:40 pm


    Another bit of tavern action:

    Before that night never had he doubted
    the strength of his arm in any contest.
    His brow wrinkled. A bead of sweat
    ran down and tickled the tip of his nose.
    Inch by inch his arm descended
    and touched the counter. Kolya grinned.

  • Comment by elizabeth — December 18, 2012 @ 5:01 pm


    Hurray–you folks are rockin’ Poet’s Night at the tavern. Keep at it. More join in.

  • Comment by patrick — December 18, 2012 @ 10:23 pm


    Another seasonal haiku:

    Dreaming of sweet spring
    the taig repeats year’s cycle
    when dragon’s fire comes

  • Comment by Genko — December 19, 2012 @ 11:24 am


    Okay, I’ve recently discovered how easy (if not wise) it is to write limericks, and couldn’t resist this contest.

    There once was a girl from Three Firs
    Who wanted to fight and be first
    She learned all she could
    Weapons metal and wood
    In attempts to relieve a big thirst.

    On her own with an untrusty elf
    She nevertheless proved herself
    Meeting lots of new folk,
    Then the Trials bespoke,
    And looked to put her on the shelf.

    She happed on the Kuakgon, (by chance?)
    And undertook a healing dance.
    Healed, went on the quest
    (is it east, or then west?)
    And finally gave Kieri his chance.

    All of this changed everything
    New kings, new mages, new bling (!)
    A dragon, perforce,
    New adventures, of course,
    We’re waiting to know what to sing.

  • Comment by Patrick Doris — December 19, 2012 @ 12:03 pm


    Road of dirt Roads of rock
    Gnomish shortcuts cause memories lost
    Will a Count’s journey be a block
    To the path of war’s fury and cost

    Of the Paladin’s new journey no tale yet be told
    How will the link be forged to find the Taig
    can it be from the new found magic of old
    or will more sacrifices be required from the King

  • Comment by Amy — December 19, 2012 @ 10:08 pm


    A rather seasonal poem:

    T’was the night of Midwinter,
    and I couldn’t sleep
    For the hooting of owls and the baaing of sheep
    Now this was unusual, because you see,
    I don’t own a farm – I live in the city!

    So I went to my window,
    Peered out at the snow,
    And saw a red horse
    prancing ’round down below.

    His rider was dressed in bright-shining mail,
    Her hair hanging down in a long pony-tail.
    She brandished a sword and let out a cry

    Merry Midwinter all, and to all a goodbye!

  • Comment by Thae — December 19, 2012 @ 11:55 pm


    Here goes~ =)

    Fear gripped tight inside
    A trembling hand takes up arms
    Against a great and terrible foe
    Who seeks to do her harm

    Given strength she swings the blade
    Shudders at its bite
    An enemy felled, the day is saved
    Good heart wins over might

    She hangs the sword above her fire
    There never to forget
    The day the enemy came to her door
    And just as swiftly left

  • Comment by Susan — December 20, 2012 @ 1:07 am


    I think I’m out of my league here, but taking a shot:

    For Paks

    Cold, hungry, worthless
    No defenses left, no hope
    What reason to live?

  • Comment by Sharidann — December 20, 2012 @ 6:22 am


    @Jenn: Thanks.
    Love your haiku too.

  • Comment by Annabel — December 20, 2012 @ 1:01 pm


    Yes, I know the scansion is a bit iffy in places:

    Before that night he knew he was a duke,
    But King? Not to his knowledge, but then, Paks,
    A former soldier, now a paladin,
    Discovered his new state. Alas, he lacks
    Full knowledge of his parenthood; a past
    So dark he’d blocked it from his very self.
    He had no sense of taig, no kinship with
    The land, or with the Lady, the Queen Elf.
    And yet, that night all changed; he seemed to see
    Himself as King of Lyonya, coming home
    To greet his people and to learn to be
    Their King, their leader in a time of war,
    As well as peace; with enemies all round
    He had to fight; there would be peace no more.

  • Comment by GinnyW — December 20, 2012 @ 1:45 pm


    Wow! I am going to have a hard time topping you all. I love Kerry’s limerick. I haven’t solved Dave’s riddle – yet. And I love Tuttle’s imagery.

    All I can come up with is this:
    (Chorus) Unbind. Unbound. Paladin frees
    an unknown future’s destiny

    Born to house an ancient soul
    Seeking slaves to bind in pain
    Now a child in winter’s cold
    Builds a man in snow again.

    Waters blocked by rotting bones
    Drenched in blood and rock entombed
    Now bubble freely from the stones
    So Alyanya’s herbs and flowers bloomed

    Urn of blood and cloak and leather
    Locked away by portrait malign
    Royal jewels are kept together
    Royal cloak shows priest’s design

  • Comment by GinnyW — December 20, 2012 @ 1:46 pm


    Oops. Should be “cloak of leather”.

  • Comment by june Mattes — December 20, 2012 @ 2:12 pm


    Slick are the limericks
    yahoo on those haikus

    I would really just like to read it
    because you can see I can’t write it


  • Comment by Sharidann — December 21, 2012 @ 12:52 am


    june, you are selling yourself too short. 🙂

  • Comment by Jenn — December 21, 2012 @ 11:33 am


    The Extra’s breakroom inhabitants have insisted that I enter their drinking song. I told them they were not eligible but they still insist. They stole it from a song game I taught the Verrakai children.

    Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (everyone raises their glass after this line)
    Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (lift)
    Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (lift)
    Let’s drink to his health
    (everyone on slaps one hand on the table 3 times while drinking from their tankard)

    Piter the Inn keeper has 11 kegs …. and so on down to…

    Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
    Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
    Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
    So now its time to go.

  • Comment by Kristin — December 21, 2012 @ 4:12 pm


    Oh, Camwyn slew a dragon,
    but the dragon’s still alive.
    It was a feat to brag on,
    ’til the dragon did arrive…

    So raise your ale flagon,
    and drink to Camwyn’s name.
    Now this poem’s begun to drag on
    So I’ll end it. What a shame!

  • Comment by Daniel Glover — December 21, 2012 @ 9:19 pm


    Meter needs work, but here’s what I’ve come up thus:

    Sightless seer held tight
    To the not-wise king’s heir
    Traveling as few mortals might
    Afore hunting Wisdom’s(?) spawn
    Escaped from their lair.

    Following in Half-Song’s tongue lashed steps thus,
    Though preceeding her as Kieri’s sword-shield (in the south) did he
    While she called him from under hill
    North of dwarf tunneled mount and ridge burrowed by gnomish will.

  • Comment by pjm — December 22, 2012 @ 1:36 am


    An aged though valiant paladin
    Retired to Three Firs and ran an inn.
    On display in the hall
    Was her armour and all,
    But her helmet was used to put salad in.

  • Comment by Annabel — December 22, 2012 @ 5:22 am


    LOVE that last limerick, pjm!

  • Comment by Jenn — December 22, 2012 @ 11:13 am


    I think we should publish a book:

    Peculiar Poetry and Parody from Paksworld’s People

  • Comment by Tracy — December 22, 2012 @ 4:51 pm


    Got to try this! Pretty rusty, though…

    Old bones under hill
    Tell the King of ancient wrongs
    Still to be redressed.

    Elf Queen will not share
    All that Kieri needs to know —
    Struck down in her pride.

    Elvenhome is lost —
    Iynisin change the game;
    Winter of the world.

    Now the Dragon’s fire
    Wakens legends old and new;
    Evil things, beware!

  • Comment by Tina Black — December 25, 2012 @ 1:17 pm


    A paladin bold
    A prince long lost restored
    To lead a kingdom.

  • Comment by Kevin Steverson — December 26, 2012 @ 7:39 pm


    So, rumor has it a new drinking song is making it’s way through the taverns…it goes something like this:

    Light! Humbly asked for…
    Light! Freely given…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

    It’s not for herself
    Cause her faith is strong
    She calls it for me and you…

    Light! Humbly asked for..
    Light! Freely given…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

    It chases the dark
    And lightens the heart
    And strengthens me and you…

    Light! Humbly asked for…
    Light! Freely given…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

    Paks rides her red stallion
    Right through to the front
    And we all know what we will do…

    Light! Humbly asked for…
    Light! Freely given…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

    We’ll fight for the right
    on through the night
    Cause our side is just and it’s true…


    Light! Humbly asked for…
    Light! Freely given…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

    The Light of the High Lord shines through…

  • Comment by Abigail Miller — December 27, 2012 @ 10:39 pm


    This seems to still be open, so here’s an attempt.

    Tasting dragon’s tongue
    shows flavors unsuspected,
    history unknown.

  • Comment by Eowyn — December 28, 2012 @ 11:47 am


    Ode to a Paladin

    She was strong yet fragile
    Yet this young squire had power
    I knew that time would test her
    yet she saved our Duke that hour
    She kept him from falling
    Into that darkness of soul
    When she joined us
    Who would have seen that role?
    After we changed she left
    She had to find her own path
    We missed her and watched
    Hoping she would avoid wrath
    She was tested beyond most people
    Her goodness was briefly tarnished
    She was true to herself
    and the glow was reburnished
    She became what she had dreamt to be
    Yet she was even more
    A paladin she became
    Not like one seen before
    She was made by Gird
    Her obeisance to him is sure
    She respects the marshals
    Her heart alone is pure.

  • Comment by Jeanine — December 28, 2012 @ 2:49 pm


    like all wars,
    composed of equal parts of ambition, greed and stupidity,
    it makes for better reading than participation.

  • Comment by Jim Elgar — December 28, 2012 @ 8:10 pm


    Jeanine, Amen.

  • Comment by Jim Elgar — December 28, 2012 @ 8:43 pm


    Where, oh Where have the Paladins gone?
    Where, oh Where can they be?
    With their mail so brightand their faith so
    Where oh Where can they be?
    Did they go west to the highlands or east to
    the sea?
    Where, oh Where can they be?
    There’s great evil in the southwest, the
    Marshal-General said.
    Is that where they might be?
    Did their saints call them all to strive and
    stand tall,
    To protect us from that evil, you and me?
    With the High Lord’s blessing, lets pray for
    them now.

    Where, oh Where can they be.

  • Comment by Gareth — December 30, 2012 @ 2:30 pm


    Elves seek perfection
    hard to find, dying out
    Iynisin seek to spoil
    easy – growing strong
    Gnomes live by the law
    very complex
    Dwarves cleave the rock
    secrets underground

    Humans – too curious to leave things be.
    Mix of all, good, bad, lawful, thieves.

    Short lives, strong loves.

  • Comment by pjm — December 31, 2012 @ 12:40 am


    A drinking song for iynisin (if they have them)

    Ten little paladins hanging on the wall.
    Ten little paladins hanging on the wall,
    And if one little paladin should accidentally fall
    (evil laughter!)
    There’d be nine little paladins hanging on the wall.



  • Comment by pjm — December 31, 2012 @ 4:10 am


    On reflection, not an Iynisin drinking song. Achrya, using very forceful persuasion, put together a joint party of Iynisin and humans. The humans did the singing and the Iynisin provided the evil laughter, so effectively that one of the humans began to seriously regret joining the party (in both senses of the word).

  • Comment by Linda — January 2, 2013 @ 11:06 pm


    Haiku on a bitterly cold night

    Gnomes tremble in fear
    Dragon appears in the night
    In bleak midwinter

    In bleak midwinter
    Dragon liberates Stammel
    Can Kolya rejoice?

    Another child lost
    His mother and father mourn
    in bleak midwinter

    An elf queen dies
    and in the bleak midwinter
    the Taig cries aloud

  • Comment by Dave Ring — January 3, 2013 @ 10:22 am


    There turned out to be a bit more of the alliterative poem I submitted as comment 10 above. This is not meant as a new entry — just a more complete version of the original.

    Before that night / he never had doubted

    the strength of his arm / in any contest.

    His brow wrinkled. / A bead of sweat
ran down and tickled / the tip of his nose.

    Inch by inch / his arm descended

    and touched the counter. / Kolya grinned.
    “I know”, she said / “’twas nowise fair —
    half of your arms / ‘gainst all of mine.
    I suckered you, friend, / and so I’ll pay.
    Barkeep! Bring us / the best of your ale!”

  • Comment by Lise — January 4, 2013 @ 8:44 am


    In Echoes of Betrayal, Arvid hears some Blue Riders singing a song about Phelani. He wonders what the Phelani sing about the Blues. Here is my attempt going from how annoyed the Phelani are about how the Blue Riders treat their wounded and also how they hired Captain Arneson who is great and experienced.

    I am very new to this so please don’t judge me too harshly.

    Blue Riders are mean at heart
    With their wounded they just part!
    Will not spend a serf on them
    Cough them up like so much phlegm!

    Hey Blue Riders, we don’t care!
    Train your troops and leave them there!
    We will profit you will loose.
    Just you listen to the news.

    What will you leave for us today?
    Seargeant? Captain? Oh please say!
    We’ll recruit from your company
    And get great folks for free!

  • Comment by elizabeth — January 4, 2013 @ 10:39 am


    Lise: I love the Phelani song about the Blues.

  • Comment by Lise — January 4, 2013 @ 4:00 pm


    I went to school in French so I never know exactly how to write in English. I’m glad you like it.

  • Comment by iphinome — January 4, 2013 @ 9:05 pm


    I made attempts to write an ode to a certain dark lady, Barra. Alas the bard did a much better job and gave me an inferiority complex so no entry from me this time around.

    The greek chorus might have something to say though.


    Do you think we should talk in verse?


    Iphinome’s poetry can’t get worse!

  • Comment by Jenn — January 5, 2013 @ 11:23 am



    C’est tres bien. J’aime beaucoup votre chanson.

    That’s about it. I am afraid my french is rather rusty since it has been 5 years since I lived in France.

  • Comment by elizabeth — January 5, 2013 @ 7:33 pm


    I’ve now read all the entries…and WOW. I’m SO glad I don’t have to attempt to judge merit on entries so varied (is a really great limerick better than a really great chunk of iambic pentameter that really does sound Shakespearean? What about drinking songs? Etc.)

    But since I’ve been sick, I’d like one of you to check the number of unique poets. (Remember that nobody gets an extra number in the pot for having sent more than one–just the writer’s gratitude.) I think there are 30 individuals who entered. Is that right? If confirmed, I’ll run the random number thingie over it and come up with a winner. But ye gods, folks…I wish I had more ARCs to hand out!

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