1 - 12 of 12
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A wave of heat envelopes me
with humid misting air,
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Come, my lady, come to me--
Meet me 'neath the greenwood tree.
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He isn't the handsomest lad in the world,
And he's not as rich as a king,
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On a clear, warm day in spring,
All in the month of May,
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Don't ever love a fighter: he'll care more for his sword.
And while he's out there fighting you're on the sidelines, bored.
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Oh, Robert de Spencer had a son,
Sing hey a way a way-oh,
by Welshbard
85 lines,
on Jan 4 12:12 AM. In bardic, sca, humor, music, lyrics, song, fantasy, story, long, ballad
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I'm an Artemisian Herald; we have duties multitudinous
But handle them with style in a manner fortitudinous.
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So now, my lord, you have come home from the wars,
Seeking me here, in my lonely bed.
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Young Huw and Cerys walked beside
The seashore just at eventide.
by Welshbard
84 lines,
on Jan 3 10:10 PM. In bardic, long, ballad, wales, lore, love, loss, filk, lyrics, music, fantasy, story
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'Tis now, in the warm tender green time of spring
I think of my brother, the songs he did sing.
by Welshbard
49 lines, 4 comments,
on Jan 3 10:02 PM. In bardic, sca, lyrics, wales, ballad, love, loss, history, lore, long, music
1 - 12 of 12
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