The York Rose

The blossom pure of softest white
below the green bears brutal thorn.
It tears the hand that reaches forth
to see the rose from its stem torn.

The thorn is of a silver bright
the flower bears a painted shield.
For victory good York shall fight
and never to Lancaster yield.

The bloodied hand retreats with speed
crushed and battered, wet with red.
The white rose root remaineth still
with Crown upon her rightful head.

“This poem was written at the 31st War of the Roses, as an inspiration for our host at the war, a dedicated white rose of great hospitality. During a pause in the battle, I read it to our goodly King, who also fought for York.  His Majesty requested that should York win (which, of course they would), that the poem be presented as a gift to the Baron of Concordia and supporters of York from Their Majesties.  It was presented at the Baronial Court on May 29th, AS46.”