Category: Original Songs

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Come Again Sweet Love…the Parental Version

A contrafact by Aneleda with apologies to John Dowland

Come again, sweet love – hey that’s enough!
You’ll fall off it again!
I think, thank God you’re tough!
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I’m sure, you’ll die
In deadly pain before your next birthday!

Come away! No! Do not touch that thing!
No stove, stairs or shelves…
Let go or mum will sting!
Don’t touch, don’t grab, don’t eat, don’t throw, don’t whine –
To bed you’ll go, until the end of time!

Cut it out! I told you once before!
That food is not a toy –
You won’t get any more!
To squish, to mush, to pour, to mess, to throw,
into a pile, a laying-on the floor.

HEY! Get down! Do not stand on that chair!
Put those feet on the floor
While mum repeats her prayer:
Dear God, l breathe, in once, and count, to ten
Before I sell this child to Gypsy men.

On the floor, you laugh here while I sing,
then you run toward the stairs
knowing at you I’ll fling,
you stomp, you grin, I grab, you reach, you can’t
For I have you now by the back of your pants!

Come again! Lay your head on my knee.
You seem to know it works –
You smile at mum with glee
I sit, I sigh, I shake my head, and smile.
You drool on me, then play alone a while.

Quiet now. Mum does not like the sound,
It comes to nothing good
When noise is not around
And then, mum hears- a splash! Away to rush,
For that’s the sound of fingers in the flush!

Come again, sweet love – hey that’s enough!
You’ll fall off it again!
I think, thank God you’re tough!
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I’m sure, you’ll die
In deadly pain before your next birthday!

So, we we having kind of “a day” here with the wee Falconbridge Milkdrinker, and for some reason, while I repeated “DON’T” for about the ten-thousandth time, John Dowland came to mind. So, I beg his forgiveness and that of his gravekeeper who will certainly have to trample down the sod over his resting place.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hiZ44CA3K9Y has a guitarist playing the
tune for those who don’t know it. This version, unlike Dowland’s, has
8 verses. Dowland only has 6. This was likely because he had no kids.

Sept 2008

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Ever Comes the Sun

A lullaby for a hard day.
http://mbouchard.com/misc/Ever-Comes-the-Sun.mp3*

Fear not my sweeting
for the the day is o’er
through dire trials many
sleep you now secure.

For all the people
and kindness they have shown
never will leave you
to face the dark alone.

Though there is darkness
ever comes the sun
pulled up from the ocean deep
by these blessed ones.

See watching over
clad in green and blue
doubtless and fearless
they watch over you.

Into all dangers
go they for all
sleep knowing dear one
they protect the small.

Though there is darkness
ever comes the sun
pulled up from the ocean deep
by these blessed ones.

From fearful city
to uneasy towns
none can take our deeds,
they will not cut down.

Many the hands
that come to bear the load
ever we forward look
unwavering from the road.

Though there is darkness
ever comes the sun
pulled up from the ocean deep
by these blessed ones.

Fear not my sweeting
for the the day is o’er
though dire trials many
sleep you now secure.
For all the people

and kindness they have shown
never will leave you
to face the dark alone.

Though there is darkness
ever comes the sun.

____________________________________________________

*I offer half-hearted apologies for any guinea pig noises there might be in the background (there’s a big, ridiculous thud in the middle of this song. This would be a jumping guinea pig. This was recorded at the kitchen table, clock ticking and all, and it seemed that the pigs were mostly quiet but you know – it’s a lullaby. And there’s life, noisy, funny life in the background. Which is exactly how it should be, every day. And this was also a song I just wasn’t willing to let wait until tomorrow. 

 
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The Love Story of Turi MacKinnon and His Marguerite

Turi proposes to Marguerite.
Turi proposing to Marguerite. Photo by Meredith Bailin Hull.

This is a song-gift to Turi MacKinnon and his bride Marguerite, in honor of their love and in celebration of their wedding day. It is a shared gift from me and Sir Cullan Mac Cianain, who asked me to write it, which was splendid because I was going to write one anyway! As both Turi and Marguerite were present the first time I sang for the Unbelts, their story begins there. Turi proposed to her following the Unbelted battle at Pennsic the following summer, and I was happy witness to that moment too. They are people of great joy, and their smiling faces were in my mind as this was composed. I hope it sounds as warm as the Pennsic sunlight, and as happy as these lovely people who have found each other.

The violin part was played by my good friend Sam Hess.

http://mbouchard.com/misc/The-Love-Story-of%20Turi-MacKinnon-and-His-Marguerite.mp3

A fighter marched down with his friends one fine day
to sport on the tourney field green.
A maiden did come to watch the battle play
while they postured and fought to be seen.

He said to his brother standing beside
“Would that there were a lady for me.
Her honor I’d fight for, my sword she would guide
and my love for her I would decree.”

The ladies were standing like flowers arrayed,
She in blue stood apart from the rest.
She said very softly from beneath her shade,
“If one would fight for me, I would love him the best.”

And so it begins there so sweet,
out in the sun and the hay
the tale of life so complete
the love story of Turi MacKinnon and his Marguerite.

Came then a time of the winter’s cold bite
when warm thoughts are oft so far away
but he muse’d much on the lady’s smile bright;
how to her his heart convey.

Then at long last did a message he send
“Sweet lady please grant my desire,
I beg come with me and a fine feast attend,
for you I have come now to greatly admire.”

And so it begins there so sweet,
out in the sun and the hay
the tale of life so complete
the love story of Turi MacKinnon and his Marguerite.

In this fighting lad all delight she did find,
For he was all the things she could dream.
They were rose and thistle together entwined;
their joy like the sunlight did stream.

He marched off the field one victorious day,
to the one who owned his arm and heart,
and there at her feet his whole life he did lay
with a ring he did vow that they never would part.

And so it begins there so sweet,
out in the sun and the hay
the tale of life so complete
the love story of Turi MacKinnon and his Marguerite.

And so it begins there so sweet,
out in the sun and the hay
the tale of life so complete
the love story of Turi MacKinnon and his Marguerite.

 

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River-bone Warrior – a Song for Talen

Odin grant me one more battle

that I may die on warriors ground

Guide my soul to meet the Æsir,

You whom sacrifice has bound.

The Idis gave me fearful fortune –

raise battle-light and turn to stone.

Yet I shall cast into the striving

though norns have named me river-bone

My life is yet an uncut thread!

deaf to Mimir’s warning be –

With shield-gnawers I will run

Bed-shame never shall I see!

Hear the black song of this reaver –

The straw-death shall not have me!

Hear above the cold tree breaker

calling down the valkyrie.

I will don my burnished war net

and go to where the blood-swan sings

to meet the day of flame-farewell,

hear battle song in raven’s wings.

bonehouse will not bear my war-gear

so I hear upon the wind,

I raise my glass and join my hallsmen

then raise blood-ember to discind

My life is yet an uncut thread!

deaf to Mimir’s warning be –

With shield-gnawers I will run

Bed-shame never shall I see!

Hear the black song of this reaver –

The straw-death shall not have me!

Hear above the cold tree breaker

calling down the valkyrie.

Hanging god give me no pity

my battle-sweat runs hot within

It need not be a field of honor;

I shall not die as cattle-kin!

Odin grant me one more battle

that I may die on warriors ground

Guide my soul to meet the Æsir,

You whom sacrifice has bound.

My life is yet an uncut thread!

deaf to Mimir’s warning be –

With shield-gnawers I will run

Bed-shame never shall I see!

Hear the black song of this reaver –

The straw-death shall not have me!

Hear above the cold tree breaker

calling down the valkyrie.

__________________________________________________________________________________

This is a song for a warrior who has been told by the norns that if he lifts a sword again, he will turn to stone. They have already named him river-bone (stone.) He knows his body will break if he puts on his armor. But he will not, as any good Norse warrior would not, lay in his bed and wait, but chooses to join his brothers at war anyway, calling on the valkyries to come as he asks Odin for one final battle before the norns sever the threads of  his life if he battles. We don’t know what happens, only what his will is.

I may make this into a story at some point too.

This poem/song is inspired by Talen Wristbiter, whose warrior-spirit raised my muse today – her spear held to my back until I finished it – by writing about how he has been told that  he must stop fighting (and working) for his health, but how he refuses to stop fighting and working because those things give him purpose and meaning, without which life cannot be truly lived. That fierceness of spirit felt brave, and foolish, and admirable, and I was (and remain) in awe of it.

Thank you my war-brother. May your days on the field be many. -aneleda

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I Fight for You

The Queen’s Meadhall in Carolingia was where this song was first publicly performed. It was written after a conversation with Aneleda’s noble cousin and friend Gryffyn Dunham, who was on the unbelted team at the time, about what inspires us do do what we do on the field (and elsewhere.) Since I had no song that really fit that theme, I wrote this one.

This song is featured on the CD “I Am of the North” available for purchase online at:  http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aneledafalconbridge/

I Fight for You 

I fight for you,
my one, my love, my own
You who give more strength to me
than I would know alone.
While my arms are bound in linen
and my legs are wrapped in steel
nothing brings me to my knees
as the way you make me feel.
I fight for you.

Many are the days and nights
when I have left you behind;
deep within a warrior’s trance
seemed to push you from my mind.
But know that you are all to me
no matter what I show
for I don the armor to protect
what I hold safely below.

I fight for you...etc.

The miles, they leave me lonesome
for the warrior’s road is long.
I miss your laughter ‘round the fire
And your voice raised soft in song.
As I look up to the star’s light
that I know above you shine,
I pray that my thoughts carry
to the love I know is mine.

I fight for you...etc.

Each buckle and each lacing
Marks the rituals of war,
Knowing solidly and firmly
that for you I would do more.
With my life I will protect you
and would keep you from all harm,
each time I step upon the field
I wear that knowledge as a charm.

I fight for you...etc.

When I have the time I watch you
‘neath the shadow of my helm.
But I do not do it often
lest my feelings overwhelm.
With all the honor in my being
I take every day for you
I swear that your belief in me
I shall never make you rue.

I fight for you...etc.