This was the first of my poems concerning Lord Seamus McAlister, written for the Kingdom Poet Laureate competition at Spring Crown List, 2007.
“Go forth,” his steward said, “My Lord, take flight!
The boy is fine with us, he will be safe.
But you must leave before first morning light
Or to the battlefield you will be late!”
Fair Genevieve, his lady wife, stood near
His side, her countenance was solemn, still
“My dearest Lord, we musn’t take up fear
But ‘stead, with haste, take up your spear and shield,
“Sir Morgan waits to issue his command
And needs each warrior standing ready guard
For armies great stretch forth before his hand
And larger still, the armies ‘cross the yard.”
He took his tiny son in arms, and smiled.
And by his crib he turned and slowly knelt
“Tonight, my boy, our cart shall cross the miles,
For tomorrow, we shall join the fray in Hell.”
The steward checked the bags and gave the reins
And Genevieve stepped up into her seat.
Lord Seamus left his child there with great pains
Inside the crib that sat before his feet.
He took his place and readied up his team
And gave the cry, “Now south, unto the shore
Of that great gulf where armies toil and teem,
To fight beside my general in the war!”
Throughout the night, the thunder crashed and rolled
The ground upon which Seamus’s horse did race
And tightly to his arm, his wife did hold
As through the night they matched the Devil’s pace
The winds’ increasing screams the horse did fright.
He bucked, Lord Seamus whipped the reins and cursed
And neighing loud, the steed pressed on in spite
Defiant, drove into the wailing bursts
At morning’s light, the captain took the field
And all across, his men stood bold and brave
“Fierce warriors, to our foes we shall not yield!
Let only God their trembling spirits save!”
His eyes took in the rows of shields and spears
And one brave face he could not spot amongst,
When suddenly Lord Seamus did appear
“Sir Ironheart, I come to join the hunt!”
Upon the sodden ground, the soldiers stood
And heartened were they by my Lord’s great cry.
“Today, my friends, the earth shall soak in blood
As swift and brave our blades and arrows fly!”
They took the field against Trimeris men
And stared into the eyes of those ahead.
And seeing trembling shields and spears, they grinned
The battle would be theirs, the foes soon dead.
You see, the enemy knew now great fear
And came the call, “Shift left, their best we face!”
Our army vast had cost them losses dear
And now respect they paid Meridies
Now given chance to best us, came the fray
And spears and swords did gleam the growing sun
Sir Morgan shouted, “Go men! Take the day!
Trimeris and Gleann Abhann soon will run!”
The arrows of the foe flew fast and sure
And downed a many brave beside my Lord
“This cannot be!” he cried, “There’ll be no more!”
And threw himself into the shouting horde.
He broke in through and climbed the bodies dead
And found a row of yeomen firing fast
He could not take them, though his allies bled
And knew that, in this hailstorm, they’d not last
He dove for shelter ‘neath his brother’s shield
And called to Ironheart to meet his side,
“My captain! I have found the yeomen’s field
And with my help, no man o’er there may hide!”
He quickly drew a line into the mire
And gave his knowledge to the captain’s guard
“Lord Seamus, you, must walk into that fire
For only you can take us through that yard.”
He readied up his shield and took his spear,
The sweat poured down his face and off his back.
My Lord, however, knew not any fear
And quickly called to instigate attack
“Good men of Gunther’s merit, charge that line!”
He called and aimed his spearhead toward the fray
The men before them hit the ground in time
And charged ahead, Lord Seamus, on that day
But as his own compatriots took down
The line of archers standing, thought they, well,
A half a dozen glaives became a crown
Intent on being worn by Seamus’s helm
“My Lord, beware!” a spearman cried in vain
As Seamus raised his shield to save the blow
And shattered was the wood, clear split in twain
Twice dented was the handle placed below
And my good Lord upon the grass did fall
His noble sacrifice became quite clear
As our Meridies took up the call
“The bows are gone! Good nobles, take the spear!”
As rose the midday sun, my Lord did see
The field awash with blood his brothers spilled
But not was it from their own vains, no he
Could see that it was Trimeris ‘been killed
And as he raised his chest in final breath
He saw his son, his eyes were bright and clear
And smiling, knew the nobleness of death
Would give his son the honor to best fear
Meridies did take the fight that morn
And long would be remembered from that day
That on his shoulders chivalry was borne
Lord Seamus, plunging deep into the fray
And Genevieve brought home the shattered tree
That bore the arms of such my noble Lord
His shield, though broken, bore the truth we see,
That heavenly crown, Lord Seamus’s reward.
