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Richard Clerke of Rowanwood
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXVII
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(Rondel)
written by THL Beathog nic Dhonnchaidh
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The rowan flower bends her head
And leaves her champion to his sleep.
She cradles pome in hands stained red
In shadow of the great oak’s keep.
Love’s kiss, now but a memory sweet
Upon the lips of the rose he wed,
The rowan flower bends her head
And leaves her champion to his sleep.
Two foes, two fell, both now lay dead.
The Welsh Duke taken off his feet
To kneel before her lover’s bed.
Three ladies stand alone to weep.
The rowan flower bends her head
And leaves her champion to his sleep.
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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.
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