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'Twas the Feast of Great Winter (A poem by Dispaya)
#1
'Twas the Feast of Great-Winter

by Dispaya

'Twas the Feast of Great-Winter, when all through the Glade
not a creature was stirring, not one scarlet's blade.
Our weapons were hung by the doorway with care,
in hopes that no Scarlet monks soon would be there.

Forsaken were nestled all snug in their graves
while visions of Scarlet raids made them afraid
I pulled on my mageweave and fitted my cap
and had just settled down for a long death-like nap

When out of the wood there arose such a clatter!
I rose from my grave to see what was the matter!
And there in the couryard I saw nothing but red!
Confronted by Scarlet's who wanted my head!

The moon shone over the Lordaeron Door
reflecting off armored helms, shields and big swords
when what to my undead eyes should appear,
but a big Crimson raptor and 8 Ironsingers!

With a lopey old hunter, so witty and mean
I knew in a minute it must be Lord Sreng.
More rapid than Murlocs his tribemates they came
and he grunted and shouted and called them by name!

Now Umu! Now Rawne!
Shillatae and Zema!
Now Evie, Now Kosath,
Fleethoof and Merrina!
From the edge of the Bulwark
To Silverpine's Great Wall!
Slay away! Slay away!
Slay away all!

Like winds of a hurricane his warriors did fly
when they met with a scarlet each soldier would die
So up to the Monastery the Ironsingers they flew
with a raptor called Meathook...They took me along too!

And then in an instant they started their raid
the flashing and slashing of each Singer's blade!
As I drew out my dagger those Scarlet's all fled,
Lord Sreng stood beside me with his Raptor of red

He was dressed all in armor, from his head to his boot
and he turned and invited me to come to his moot
A bundle of weapons he had strapped to his back
and he fought like a tiger with each scarlet he'd sack.

His eyes were so squinty, his tusks how narrow!
His pupils like ruby's, his nose like an arrow!
with his long pointy fingers he drew back his bow
as the blood of the Scarlet's fell red on the snow!
As he took to his mission he gritted his teeth
til dead bodies encircled his feet like a wreath!
He had a thin face and a little green belly
that shook when he laughed like a green ichor jelly.

He was skinny and green, a right jolly old Troll
and I laughed when I knew Scarlet heads would soon roll
With a click of his tusks and a twist of his head
gave me to know that those Scarlet's soon would be Dead!

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
cut down all the Monks along with Herod that jerk!
Then he turned and looked at me down his long pointed nose
and giving a nod, back up on his raptor he rose

He called to his team, and to Meathook gave a whistle
And away they all flew like a keen goblin missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he rode out of sight...

Happy Holidays to all!
And to all Ironsingers Good Night!



I wish to dedicate this poem to one of my favorite guildmates...Zema, who not only inspired this by her hatred of the scarlets...but also because she always keeps me giggling and laughing whenever she is around. Thanks for your sense of humor and for reminding us all why we come here to play.

-=((D))=-
Sing True Ironsong!
Reply
#2
Great poem! Great Tribe!
Reply
#3
YAY, SingerLady!

((Edo and I sat here and giggled like children last night while you shared your poem. Thank you...it's excellent and wonderful! -poZema))
Reply
#4
Wow!!!

What can I say except...

Taz'dingo!!!

Fantastic job, you've definitely brought a holiday grin to these tusks. Wink
Reply


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