Old Poems

Right, so here’s old poems I’ve shared in my other blog (which I’m not writing to anymore).

A Dwarven Drinking Song:

Round Pouch Inn

Oh, t’was an early morn – and a sullen one-
When last a Dwarf was ‘low the sun,
But a happy day at the end was known
For the dwarf’s round pouch of gold had grown!

Yes, the dwarf’s round pouch of gold had grown!

And with work and sweat and an honest grin,
He’s naught but laughter for a friend,
And a silly smile upon his lips
To accompany the ale he sips!

But the last was strong,
And so t’was – ‘ere long,
When the drink he drank
Was of what he stank…

That his wife, she called,
But the old man bawled,
For he knew her not in his drunken state,
And he begs her still to this very day…

Yes, he begs her still to this very day!

For forgiveness still, for the slight he did,
When he said, ‘Hello, Luv, Will yeh have a sip?’
And she did agree to his offer then,
Just to find that naught was left within

Oh she found that naught was left within!

Well she called him daft, and she called him drunk,
And she sent him back to that costly bunk!
And the money made, there he spent again,
And his new home’s called, ‘The Round Pouch Inn’!


The above was the revisited poem. It is not much changed from its original form, but I’ll share that here too:

“Oh, t’was an early morn – and a sullen one-
When last a Dwarf was ‘low the sun,
But a happy day at the end was known
For the dwarf’s round pouch of gold had grown!

And with work and sweat and an honest grin,
He’s naught but laughter for a friend,
And a silly smile upon his lips
To accompany the ale he sips!”

“But the last was strong,
And so t’was – ‘ere long,
When the drink he drank
Was of what he stank…

That his wife, she called,
But the old man bawled,
For he knew her not in his drunken state,
And he begs her still to this very day…

For forgiveness still, for the slight he did,
When he said, ‘Hello, Luv, Will yeh have a sip?’
And she did agree to his offer then,
Just to find that naught was left within

The dark old mug, that he’d spilt and drunk
And she sent him back to that costly bunk!
And the money made, there he spent again,
And his new home’s called, ‘The Round Pouch Inn’!”


Now a poem from a White-Wolf campaign, meant to be a prophecy of the coming of Gehenna and how the PCs might avert it:

Gehenna

Starlight Burns the Evening skies,
Behold Not with open eyes.
see the Fuel before the Fire;
Die Not on the fune’ral Pyre.

Ash and Flame consume the sky;
yours is not to Reason why,
just to Atone for your Sin
Pray that new Life does begin.

the End comes on Burning wings;
do you know what Herald brings?
News of Life and Death to be;
yet Our Past does hold the key.

our Future hangs on Balance
Silver Scale, Golden Chalice
and if we are to survive
God’s Forgiveness now must die.

accomplish this, rewarded be:
let Flames consume thine enemy
Upon the Herald’s blessed feet;
let tears of Blood, your sin, complete.


Now a poem written for a Wheel of Time character:

Christening

The salty sprays o’ harbor waves
Are riddled in the air,
New wooden planks on weathered banks,
No sight could be more fair,
The morning dew burned off anew,
Be lost within the sky
And seagulls roam above the foam
O’ Ocean’s frothy eye.

Me ship an’ crew ‘ave much to do,
Lest leather taste their skin
For idle hand on sea or land,
To our kind is a sin.
And soon our babe breaks its first wave,
Soon she meets the Sea,
But before that the bottle’s glass,
With shatter sets her free.

For a small time a silent line
O’ Atha’an Miere
Stand frozen still as if their will
Be bound with her at pier
The massive ship that we let slip
Into the grasp of sea
Proves strong and true to hold the crew
And our fine company.


And last a lullaby I wrote for a World of Warcraft character:

Un-named Lullaby

Let your eyes close gently in the night…
And the world awaiting you be bright…
For there’s dreams to be had
In the arms of a lad
Who will love you with all of his might…

Let the evening softly sing a song…
For the journey that you travel on…
To a place of your dreams
Every joy, every scene
Will be filled with things for which you long…

And when morning night does finally break…
And for lands of dreams does your heart ache…
Please take comfort in this
One sweet smile, one soft kiss,
You are loved.. Of that make no mistake…


Again, I’m not really expecting anyone to come across this little trove of poetry, but in case someone does and wishes a name to attribute it to when they use it or share it elsewhere, you may attribute it to my pen name. Kathleen d’Tiers.

Thank you and be well!

3 thoughts on “Old Poems

    1. I think Round Pouch Inn was actually the first time I ever wrote a poem for a role play. So glad it could be shared with someone else! 🙂

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