 | A few years ago I was part of a writers group that was undergoing a sort of poetry phase. Poetry has not, since my high school days, really been my cup of tea, though I dabble every now and again. I found some inspiration for the following, however, in a couple of things: One, my writers group, and two - of all things - a video game. I ran around for quite a while in an RPG picking up scrolls and books and in one of them was a rather beautiful story in the form of a poem. Voila! Inspiration! Who said video games aren't art? Not I. So, recently dredged from the lost files of my computer, here is A Ballad of Bards. Enjoy! |
A Ballad of Bards
A poem by Kiley Kellermeyer
Years ago, you might have heard,
were four bards, rash but sly.
Around the kingdom did they spin
their tales from low to high.
Jin, she was a gold-haired thing, like
her brother Julien.
They sang the legends of fair folk
and other flights of whim.
With them traveled man and wife
named Loy and Izabelle.
They told stories of epic beasts
and creatures spawned in Hell.
All four of them could write and play.
Loy had quills, Jin her flute.
Julien’s voice joined with his harp.
Izzy mastered the lute.
But speak of magic you know not,
like one who’s most naïve,
and you may find yourself inside
a tale like those you weave.
One night they strode ‘neath waxing moon,
four chroniclers of lore.
Their path gave way to mystery,
and here they saw a door.
If caution here you would prescribe,
the lesser fool are you.
But this troupe found the door unlocked
and they strode brashly through.
Upon their entry did they see,
where once was a way out,
the door had vanished. Poof! Was gone!
The needed a new route.
“Go onward!” cried brave Julien.
“To what end?” came Loy’s voice.
And then Jin looked at Izabelle,
who said, “We have no choice.”
The four bards walked through dimmest light.
On stone their footsteps fell.
Loy pushed Jin who trod upon the
gray cloak of Izabelle.
Julien lurched, then down they went,
and when their falling ceased,
they stood as one and gazed in fear
upon a wretched beast.
T’was hard to see inside the room
where here a monster dwelled.
And who could say through murky light
what shape this creature held?
“Friends,” Loy cried. “Run and save yourselves!
I’ll lure his scorching fire.”
“Her spells are strong,” said Julien.
“You run, I’ll draw her ire.”
Then said Jin, “He is much too sly.
We’ll none of us escape!
I’ve read of Folk like these before.
Our minds and souls he’ll take.”
“Don’t be so daft,” called Izabelle.
She raised her bold, strong chin.
“That thing was spawned in hellish depths.
Together we must win!”
And now, you’d think, this story ends.
For how could they prevail?
They’ve harps and pens, not swords, you know.
Just rugged cloaks, not maille.
“As one we fight,” said Izabelle.
She raised her shining lute.
Loy drew his quills. “You’re right, my love!
Get back you fiendish brute!”
The monster lunged for each of them.
All cried out as they dove.
Julien raised his harp to shield
Jin from the mighty blow.
“Quick! The crone is stuck within my
harp’s chords good and fast.”
“I’ll bind the faery’s hands,” Jin said.
“So no spells it may cast.”
Loy barreled in from somewhere near
and glanced at them with doubt.
Then sprang upon a scaly hide
to grab the creature’s snout.
He hugged the muzzle as he cried,
“Don’t let it reach the sky!”
Izzy shook her head and thought,
‘Why, such things cannot fly.”
The creature screamed and flailed about,
strength none of them could hold.
Our heroes four would not last long,
however true and bold.
In the black of the mystic ruins
Izabelle, she raised her lute
to crash upon the creature’s skull.
But then… she heard the flute.
The room was filled with melody;
A haunting, honeyed trill.
Jin’s music swirled ‘round beast and bards
and each of them grew still.
Izabelle withdrew her lute and
instead began to play.
Julien joined with just his voice.
The beast began to sway.
And finally Loy weaved in his voice:
A soothing baritone.
Bardic ballad beguiling a beast
that crashed with a great groan.
Just like that, poof! It disappeared.
The players blinked and stared.
They were once more beneath the moon.
No door, beast, or despair.
Said good Loy, “That dragon was a
fearsome sight to see.”
“A dragon?” said brave Julien.
“It t’was a witch to me.”
Jin said, “I saw a being filled
with magic from the Fae.”
“I saw,” said Izabelle at last,
“a demon in the fray.”
In ghostly light of moon above,
all now a promise gave.
Story of doorway, beast, and song
would follow to the grave.
So if you travel Fae-touched woods
may this tale keep you strong.
But if you follow in their path
You better have a song!
A poem by Kiley Kellermeyer
Years ago, you might have heard,
were four bards, rash but sly.
Around the kingdom did they spin
their tales from low to high.
Jin, she was a gold-haired thing, like
her brother Julien.
They sang the legends of fair folk
and other flights of whim.
With them traveled man and wife
named Loy and Izabelle.
They told stories of epic beasts
and creatures spawned in Hell.
All four of them could write and play.
Loy had quills, Jin her flute.
Julien’s voice joined with his harp.
Izzy mastered the lute.
But speak of magic you know not,
like one who’s most naïve,
and you may find yourself inside
a tale like those you weave.
One night they strode ‘neath waxing moon,
four chroniclers of lore.
Their path gave way to mystery,
and here they saw a door.
If caution here you would prescribe,
the lesser fool are you.
But this troupe found the door unlocked
and they strode brashly through.
Upon their entry did they see,
where once was a way out,
the door had vanished. Poof! Was gone!
The needed a new route.
“Go onward!” cried brave Julien.
“To what end?” came Loy’s voice.
And then Jin looked at Izabelle,
who said, “We have no choice.”
The four bards walked through dimmest light.
On stone their footsteps fell.
Loy pushed Jin who trod upon the
gray cloak of Izabelle.
Julien lurched, then down they went,
and when their falling ceased,
they stood as one and gazed in fear
upon a wretched beast.
T’was hard to see inside the room
where here a monster dwelled.
And who could say through murky light
what shape this creature held?
“Friends,” Loy cried. “Run and save yourselves!
I’ll lure his scorching fire.”
“Her spells are strong,” said Julien.
“You run, I’ll draw her ire.”
Then said Jin, “He is much too sly.
We’ll none of us escape!
I’ve read of Folk like these before.
Our minds and souls he’ll take.”
“Don’t be so daft,” called Izabelle.
She raised her bold, strong chin.
“That thing was spawned in hellish depths.
Together we must win!”
And now, you’d think, this story ends.
For how could they prevail?
They’ve harps and pens, not swords, you know.
Just rugged cloaks, not maille.
“As one we fight,” said Izabelle.
She raised her shining lute.
Loy drew his quills. “You’re right, my love!
Get back you fiendish brute!”
The monster lunged for each of them.
All cried out as they dove.
Julien raised his harp to shield
Jin from the mighty blow.
“Quick! The crone is stuck within my
harp’s chords good and fast.”
“I’ll bind the faery’s hands,” Jin said.
“So no spells it may cast.”
Loy barreled in from somewhere near
and glanced at them with doubt.
Then sprang upon a scaly hide
to grab the creature’s snout.
He hugged the muzzle as he cried,
“Don’t let it reach the sky!”
Izzy shook her head and thought,
‘Why, such things cannot fly.”
The creature screamed and flailed about,
strength none of them could hold.
Our heroes four would not last long,
however true and bold.
In the black of the mystic ruins
Izabelle, she raised her lute
to crash upon the creature’s skull.
But then… she heard the flute.
The room was filled with melody;
A haunting, honeyed trill.
Jin’s music swirled ‘round beast and bards
and each of them grew still.
Izabelle withdrew her lute and
instead began to play.
Julien joined with just his voice.
The beast began to sway.
And finally Loy weaved in his voice:
A soothing baritone.
Bardic ballad beguiling a beast
that crashed with a great groan.
Just like that, poof! It disappeared.
The players blinked and stared.
They were once more beneath the moon.
No door, beast, or despair.
Said good Loy, “That dragon was a
fearsome sight to see.”
“A dragon?” said brave Julien.
“It t’was a witch to me.”
Jin said, “I saw a being filled
with magic from the Fae.”
“I saw,” said Izabelle at last,
“a demon in the fray.”
In ghostly light of moon above,
all now a promise gave.
Story of doorway, beast, and song
would follow to the grave.
So if you travel Fae-touched woods
may this tale keep you strong.
But if you follow in their path
You better have a song!
