Bardic Tales

Riding the Bore

Necessity demands that we

throw our fates to fate

Those that chase us, press us on

to tempt this dangerous strait

Here tides clash and spin around

between two plots of land

The sea gods rage and tear at life

some ships lost to demand

The bore spins left then to the right

at speeds no horse can match

If we time the crossing right

then we won't be the catch

It takes will and desperate need

to brave the serpent's wrath

Should we make it just half way,

there is no winning path

Only rocks, the ocean's teeth

to crush unlucky ships

So hoist the sail and catch the wind,

an oar through torn hands slips

Legs and arms strain past relief,

our only hope to live

With tide at ebb the racing slows,

we've just enough to give

The raging roar is fading fast,

the chasers in the drink

Exhausted bodies drape the yards,

Neptune blessed I think

Freed of chase, we onward race

to war a monstrous foe

Tyranohomo sapien

his empire known for woe

We few in number, valor strong,

make arrow sharp our thrust

Invade the chink all armor has,

consign Him back to dust

We who war must leave behind

the life we're fighting for,

And fight we must for God and king,

for hearth and home and more

Warrior, poet, wizard, sage,

I'm all of these at least,

And should you wish more stories thus,

I'll prattle at your feast

Richard Higley © Nov 2011