The Epic of Jaji's tent

Written regarding events of the War of the Roses in 2008. Based on the poetic style of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

1. When wintry lands warm, a war comes to the East
And Concordia the cold calls all to its lands
Then many make their way to the march of the west
With arms and with armor, or arrows to shoot,
With hatchets to hurl and harry the foe.
Or songs to inspire their soldiers of choice.
The great hosts gather on the green fields
Around bright banners each bearing a blaze,
Signs of each side whose soldiers will fight
And hack axe on helm, halberd on sword
And shield!
Two roses, red and white
Vie on these verdant fields
Each year two factions fight
Each year one rose must yield

2. To this war every year an innkeeper comes
To bring feasts for the fighters and feed them well
He is called by his kin Qadagin-u Jajiradai
But more normally known by the name "Jaji."
He has made magnificent meals of meat and game,
Fish seethed in a sauce or in soups so fine,
Bread freshly baked, and barley well cooked.
For nobles without number, knights of great fame,
And countless kings he has cooked these meals,
Welcoming all quite well whether they are many
Or few
Though famous men he feeds
And toils for, pure and true,
Ne'er slights he souls in need,
He tends the humblest too.

3. As the iron clashes ended one year of this war
Winds began to whistle and whirl through the fields
These terrible torrents tore through the camps
And grabbed at loose garb gusted with force.
Peerless Jaji and his partners packed up with care
Tended chairs and tables took down their Inn
Flung away firewood folded up aprons
Put pots in their proper place for travel
At last all was loaded but their least poessesion
The personal tent of the peer but patient Jaji only
Slept there
A doughty little dome
And worn through years of care
Wind gripped this humble home
And heaved it high in air!

4. Tumbling and turning the tent flew upward
It arced through the air then to earth it dropped
It bounced then bounded above the trees
Diving down and then up like a desert weed
A passing smith peered at it, his apprentice by his side,
He pointed and laughed loudly "look at that!" he cried
"That house is hurtling high in the air!
I bet its stakes broke and were badly forged,
But if we had struck the stakes instead they would have stuck
like glue!"
Four players passing by
They saw the smith's ado
For moments wondered why
Until they saw it too


5. Readily the bards rushed to rescue the tent.
Each of them a deft artist of another sort
One a lovely lady with a lilting voice
She caught the cord that hung from the crown of the tent
Then the poet of the party pulled down the dome.
Dexterously their dancer dragged out one side,
And the teller of tall yarns the tent he stopped
from floating and fluttering, and flapping like the wing of
a bat
They folded fast in thirds,
They flung the tent out flat.
To ground the graceless bird,
On each a side they sat

6. Generous Jaji rode up with a jangle of reins,
He peered at the players who had pinned the tent -
He gave a great laugh, grinned as he spoke:
My tiny little tent took off like a shot
It flew out fast and far but you found it for me!
I have had this humble home for many years,
For bringing it back I bid you accept
this thing:
Next year you'll be my guests
And any bards you bring
I'll host your happy jests,
Please tell your tales and sing."

7. To the players he promised a place to perform -
To sing songs, sad or merry, to recite poetry,
Or tell stories of strange places and striking deeds.
On the next year gentle Jaji journeyed to war,
He turned a tent into a temporary inn,
And welcome all word-smiths with wide-stretched arms -
Fine food he offered to performers all.
When the feasting was finished and full were all bellies
Jaji called joyfully out and enjoined a poet
to share
The tale of tent that soared
In verse from voice so fair!
Which praised this peerless lord,
That one beyond compare!


© Dan Marsh