Piel Ballad (For the King of Piel)
king of piel, lord of ale
hear the cryer wail
be crowned this day upon piel isle
let the knights set sail
proclaim his glory
to the sea, and to the furness lands
his castle fires burn again
upon fine foudreys sands.
his jesters play, his legions march
the crowds they all do cheer
the king and queen have come at last
and with them cometh beer
come daughters come sons to the coronation
to the crowning of the king of piel
come one come all come everyone
for the legends of him are real
tis true for sure what ye have heard
in tale of folk and lore
bout strange crown and kingship passed
on down from days of yore.
bout knights and lords
and maidens fair and pirates of the sea
bout how the queen with own hands pulls
a pint for me and thee
come with thine eyes and see for sure
the glory of this place
and take a seat at courtly table
to seek my masters grace.
come young come old as stories be told
of the exploits of the king of piel
come meek come bold come to the fold
for a taste of the island feel
there is upon this peacful isle
so many things to see
and if i were to tell you all
what pleasure would it be
to walk around its shore thyself
and feel of its strange force
to touch its sand with your bare feet
and smell the air of course
feel the sense of wonder
felt by many more
for a thousand years passed
and a thousand years more
let me now unveil a tale
of some history of this spot
a wicked little narrative
with a twisted little plot
only a small portion
of the story have i got
but i hope that you will like it
erm, a lot.
to island over yonder
the one with lines so smooth
did lambert simnel wander
his falsehoods so to prove
he landed with two thousand men
who came from o'er t'sea
and with glory in his childish head
claimed King he was to be
not so dear souls for by his death
he had so lowly fell
and all of his accomplices
were despatched thus to hell
the spit he turned for king so kind
to spare his tender head
and lived as servant all his life
til death became his bed
but left behind on the island
was something rather strange
the legend of the King of piel
and who to take his place
of course the people wondered
and argued for a cause
but the choice was so obvious
the landlord, of course
who better but to keep the peace
than one who selleth ale
who better met to rule with grace
and sometimes even style
so there in passed the kingship
and so on over time
it got wrote down in stories
and sometimes even rhyme
so now bow down, pay homage to
the noble king, crowned anew
banners raise, trumpets sound
come all come all, its
his round!
poem by Graham Eccles
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.