Those Who Serve

©Robert Fitzmorgan (Gordon Scott Fridenberg)



Knights in polished armor, banners waving in the breeze.
Lancelot and Roland we recall their names with ease.
Who polished all that armor?  Who wove those banners gay?
There work is seldom mentioned their names are lost today.

At Agincourt the archers slew the Frenchmen by the score.
Outnumbered wet and weary the English won that war.
Who made all those arrows?  Who spun strings for all those bows?
Though their efforts helped to win the day their names nobody knows.

The Baron with his vassals marching off to war.
The knight who takes the cross and sails to a distant shore
With their ladies left behind them safe within the keep.
With the long forgotten watchmen who protect them while they sleep.

The heroes we remember, Kings and Dukes, Lords and Knights.
The great and glorious battles, the legendary fights.
My friends I'm here to tell you what the legends never say.
A nameless host stood behind each "One" who won the day.

An Ansteorran warrior is a great and glorious thing.
Our kingdom has great heroes many deeds of which to sing.
Sing a song to praise that fighter who stands for our great land.
But remember too the marshall who stands with staff in hand.

When the warrior strides upon the field and raises up her shield.
Don't overlook the herald who called her to that field.
Or the one who made her surcoat that makes her look so grand.
Or the steward who is hoping the event will go as planned.

Mistress Rosalia I dedicate these lines to you.
And all who serve our kingdom and all the work they do.
A poem, a few words of praise, the least that you deserve.
So I take my pen and raise my voice to honor those who serve.


Robert's note: I wrote a poem in honor of Rosalia's elevation to the Order of the Pelican. With the storm I never had the chance to perform it, so I'm posting it here. Congratulations Mistress Rosalia.