I learned, early on, that not all my fighter poems would be born of inspiration. How do I write a fighter poem for a fighter that 1) I did not see fight, 2) I do not know, and 3) has no SCA persona to fall back on? On a whim, I decided to try my hand at a conachlonn, a simple Irish chain verse.
The conachlonn is:
- written in any number of lines;
- syllabic at the poet’s discretion, often 8 or 9 syllable lines;
- assonant chained rhymed, meaning the vowel sound of the last syllable of the line is repeated at the beginning of the next line;
- written with dunadh, the beginning syllable ends the poem.
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Sir Sven Gunther Alcon
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XL
(conachlonn)
Fair the day became and hot the sun
One rose a promise from a champion’s hand
Planned victories made sweet as three lay dead
Bled from them a chance to rule this land.
Grand the day became and fierce the sun
One English Duke has proved the stronger foe
Though Alcon gave the pithon’s Knight his best
Less was his skill upon the final blow.
Know now the day of blinding sun
One last defeat under the violent glare
Where sword and shield lay at his side
Denied now a victory for his lady fair.
— THL Beathog nic Dhonnchaidh
. . . is a 14th century bard who can often be seen traveling far from her home in the Highlands with her lord husband and muse. If a good tale crosses her path, she will sing a song about it, pull out its hair and spin it, or throw it in a pot and cook it up.