Written for Angus Pembridge by Aneleda Falconbridge after Spring Crown Tourney AS 46.
Oh Angus build a house for me
Of sturdy stone beside the sea
A thatchy roof, a fire warm
and you to love in sun and storm.
Your knowledge broad is what I prize,
and your gentle laughing eyes.
The words you whisper in my ear,
I beg you, be forever near.
Oh Angus build a house for me
Of sturdy stone beside the sea
A thatchy roof, a fire warm
and you to love in sun and storm.
A simple life beside the stream,
work both honest and serene,
a waterfall to grind the wheat
and you to make my life complete.
Oh Angus build a house for me
Of sturdy stone beside the sea
A thatchy roof, a fire warm
and you to love in sun and storm.
A rooster dancing in the yard
shall sing to rival any bard
a cow for milk, a sheep for wool,
such modest things make my heart full.
Oh Angus build a house for me
Of sturdy stone beside the sea
A thatchy roof, a fire warm
and you to love in sun and storm.
Sawdust and the scent of pine
your rough hands encircling mine
on your workbench beneath the stars,
marveling at what is ours.
So there’s a really lovely person many know as Master Angus (Kerr) Pembridge (or perhaps His Excellency Baron Angus Kerr). He is clever, and kind, and has a merry sense of humor, which may be his best trait of all. While joking at Crown Tourney, there was a comment tossed about having (or not having) an Aneleda-written song, and likely a smart one tossed back about it as well – but as I was missing the court procession at that very moment, I don’t remember the details because I had to run! (Bad champion! No cookie!)
Anyway, I started thinking of this house-building, mason-loving, ever sweet Laurel who is so beloved of our Thanet household and well-respected, and thought, you know, Angus *should* have a song! And the song agreed, and came to me a little vision of a golden-haired northern maiden standing by the sea, telling this gentle man her dreams of life with him and his gifts in domestic rural bliss. It mostly wrote itself, because the pictures were vivid, and since I was a little car-crazy by then, I pulled off the highway to a nearby beach where I pulled out my trusty macbook and recorded the sea, and the song. It’s a present for Angus, for always keeping me well-entertained at events when I see him.
And also, for looking after all my stuff when I toss it in front of him and run.
And finally, for totally agreeing, without hesitation, that I am, indeed, a delicate flower of the northern army.