The Farmer’s Wife

A farmer left his widowed wife
With many years yet in her life.
He left her tracts of fallow land
At which she meant to set her hand.

She dug her furrow deep and true,
She irrigated through and through,
She worked her field all night and day,
Yet still her valley barren lay.

When then a young man happened by
She asked him if he’d like to try.

Now he was knight of noble birth,
And had he quite substantial girth;
But though his sword with steel was made,
It wasn’t quite so long in the blade.

Though valiant brought his tool to wield,
Yet barren still remained her field.
He ploughed her valley night and day
And then she sent him on his way.

When next a young man happened by,
She asked him if he’d like to try.

He was a bowman straight and tall,
And many maids had held enthrall.
But though his bow was hardwood strong,
He couldn’t weild it very long.

Though valiant brought his tool to wield,
Yet barren still remained her field.
He ploughed her valley night and day
And then she sent him on his way.

When next a young man happened by,
She asked him if he’d like to try.

The don was a flamboyant man
And with a flourish he began,
But though his foil was sharp as wit
Twasn’t broad enough to benefit.

Though valiant brought his tool to wield,
Yet barren still remained her field.
He ploughed her valley night and day
And then she sent him on his way.

When next a young man happened by,
She asked him if he’d like to try.

Now the bard, he had a set of lungs,
As skilled with hands as with his tongue.
To plough he brought out all his toys,
And bade her make a joyous noise!

So valiant brought his tool to wield,
He ploughed and ploughed, he would not yield
Until he counted daughters, three,
Two sons, and one babe yet to be!

The farmer’s widow’s now a wife,
And happy in her married life.
She tends her duties in the day,
But nightly in her fields they play!

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A Willing Man

A Willing Man

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A man to tread her soft valley.
Where is, under the moon so bright,
A willing man to bed tonight?

The Baker’s in a drunken state,
He’s face first down upon his plate!
He can’t be roused and set to rise
To be a willing man tonight.

The Carpenter instead she tries;
His wife’s away, but oh, surprise!
He pegs a maid so fair and bright,
A willing man to her tonight!

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A willing man to bed tonight!

Inspired by: we drink because we’re poets Thursday Poetry Prompt #14

Love. That is your prompt people. Remember when I said that we would do the form of doom this week? he he he Let’s see if you are up to the challenge. Here is your form for the prompt.

Kyrielle Sonnet. Here is a link describing what this is. Link here.

“..A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet). Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet. This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be: 

AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB -or- AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB. …”

I’ve decided to get back into the SCA (a world-wide medieval reenactment group) after a not entirely willing absence of a few years, and part of that has me in a mind of bawdy old songs that are so deliciously dirty without being foul.   And this definitely plays with the general perception that it’s the men who are out carousing to find a willing woman… So I sort of missed the mark on “love”, depending on exactly how you want to define it.  To keep with the format requested, here is my Kyrielle Sonnet, but I think this “song” will actually have many more stanzas in it by the time I’m finished!

I played with the refrain to make it make sense.  I’m not sure if that’s technically allowed, but it still gives the same feel, I think…

Here’s a quick longer version that would work well as a song:

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A man to tread her soft valley.
Where is, under the moon so bright,
A willing man to bed tonight?

The Baker’s in a drunken state,
He’s face first down upon his plate!
He can’t be roused and set to rise
To be a willing man tonight.

The Carpenter instead she tries;
His wife’s away, but oh, surprise!
He pegs a maid so fair and bright,
A willing man to her tonight!

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A man to tread her soft valley.
Where is, under the moon so bright,
A willing man to bed tonight?

To yonder side of town she goes,
Across the stream which swiftly flows,
Where lives the woodcutter, who might
Yet be a willing man tonight.

A rap upon his door gives she
Eager to fell his hardwood tree,
But he puts out the candle light
He’s not a willing man tonight!

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A man to tread her soft valley.
Where is, under the moon so bright,
A willing man to bed tonight?

Two traders then she passes by,
One gives a smile, one gives the eye.
Can she decide, the left or right,
Which willing man to bed tonight?

She takes the hand of each in tow
To play between them, to and fro;
There’s no need for to be a fight
When there’s two willing men tonight!

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A man to tread her soft valley.
Where is, under the moon so bright,
A willing man to bed tonight?

Oh fair Ofira, seeketh she
A willing man to bed tonight!