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Sign my Dreambook!
The site maintained by:
Tristin de Roquelaure
Patriarch of Household Ethereal
from the Incipient Shire of the Pytt of Quivira
part of the Barony of Mag Mor
belonging to the Kingdom Of Calonitir
Oh muse of fire, burn through this foggy marsh;
This muddled muck wrapped in white bone is mine.
My words, il chosen, my ideas too harsh;
Ego obsecures that which would be divine.
Burn through my blackness; char it until pure.
Cleanse the serpentine swamps with holy fire,
So my follies become background blue.
Make me a vessel, filled with your desire.
Rid me of myself, so that I may create,
A gift, better tasting than, even the sweetest mate.
--Elliot Brandt Gipson
"Oh... The Sweet Reward of Knighthood
Lies Not in the True Noblest of Deeds,
But is Buried Deep Within the Eyes and
Heart of His One Beautiful Admiring Lady".
"I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuishes on his thighs, gallantly armed,
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel droped down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with nobel horsemanship."
"Als thai haf wryten and sayd
Haf I alle in myn Inglis layd,
In symple speechs as I couthe,
That is lightest in manne's mouthe.
Alle for the luf of symple men,
That strange Inglis cannot ken."
This is a SCA WebRing site.
Want to join the ring?
"But I dont want to go among mad people" Alice remarked.
"Oh, you cant help that " said the cat,
"We're all mad here. I'm mad, you're mad".
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be", said the cat, "Or you wouldnt be here....."
- Carroll, Lewis "Through The Looking-Glass"