Some of you have seen this already. Hell, some of you were there. For those that weren't, this is a ballad I wrote to comemmorate the Highland Clan of Our Haven's Midsummer, midnight, mead raid of 2003. Much love out to all my homies of the Gangtsa Wiggity-Wicca-Wack tribe. You know who you are.
The Ballad of the Night That the Mead Did Flow Too Freely
CHORUS:
Mead, mead! Drink it down,
that you may wear the Holly Crown!
Mead, mead! Drink it up,
and we shall bring you another cup!
Deep in the Lowlands burned a flame
When from the hills the Highlanders came
Kilted, painted, lead by drummers
to raid the camp on this Midsummers'
CHORUS
Lead down the hill by torchman Jack
With Oak King Joe in the back
His face the visage of bloody death
His warriors flanked at right and left
CHORUS
The Triple Goddess with them stood
As they appeared from in the wood
Shannon, Brenda, and Natalie
Blessed them with the power of three
CHORUS
And three warriors, leaping as deer
had brought their drums for all to hear
Robert the Dragon, High Bard Jerry
And Graham, who all did strive to make merry
CHORUS
The Child of Promise was also there
Prince Conner of the Golden Hair
In his eyes the sacred fire shone
as he sat upon his throne
CHORUS
The Lowlanders' circle now within
the Highlanders' dance could at last begin
Jerry drummed with a passion from hell
as Brenda's sistrum sang like a bell
CHORUS
Their drumming so inflamed the heart
that Graham's wedding band did break apart
Natalie and Shannon danced and howled
and through them was the challenge called
CHORUS
The Oak King took up the Goddesses' cry
As for Her love did he ritually die
And so mighty was his dragon's fury
that soon his companions began to worry
CHORUS
The Oak King fell at the Holly King's hand
Two times today he had died for the land
He had asked for water, they had given him wine
And He wilted as the fruit on the vine
CHORUS
But the Goddesses would not leave him alone
So to Avalon they guided him home
Through the mists and into the hills
Where legend says he sleeps there still
CHORUS
And in the morning when the warriors awoke
‘twas Jerry the Bard who first spoke
"Were it not for the harshness of the Sunlight's gleam,
I would swear 'twere only a Midsummer Night's Dream!"
Reposted from LiveJournal Jul. 4th, 2003
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