I
was prowling around the Scrapbook and came across Prim's lesson on the
poetry form called Villanelle. This is my first attempt. It isn't very
good, but the words on Snowmane's grave seemed so perfect for this form.
Faithful
servant, yet Master’s bane,
Quick as an arrow from the string,
Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.
Responsive to the lightest rein,
Great stallion fit to bear a king,
Faithful servant, yet Master’s bane.
Leading the march across the plain,
A sight to make the warriors sing,
Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.
A moment of terror, a sudden pain,
A Southron’s arrow his death did bring;
Faithful servant, yet Master’s bane.
Crashing down upon the plain,
With him, he brought low his king,
Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.
Upon a stone they carved his name.
His dirge the warriors all sing:
Faithful servant, yet Master’s bane
Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.
