Poetry of Ursula Seleivara

Poetry of Ursula Seleivara

~ A lovely and elegant leather-bound book with the impression of a wing upon the cover. When opened on the first page is the sigil of Drakehall along with the following in an elegant flowing script:

Ursula Seleivara
Resident Minstrel of Drakehall
Academy of Bardic Arts

Presented to Ursula for her first public reading of her poems at Mikona's Finest by Sir Thaylis Beign; Knight of M'Chek and Blade of Pelar and his paramour, Nawen of the Fairy Garden; in honor of her artistic ways and striving to represent Drakehall in the finest ways.

Below the script are two smaller sigils of the heads of a hawk and a silver dragon facing each other and a butterfly stylized in fey designs. ~

The Waltz

Comfort among the cold stones
I was a wallflower at best,
hoping no one thought me rude.
Did I? Did i really hope that?
What had I become?

I was far from home
far from where I felt safe
all these beautiful people,
it must be so easy for them
they are bright and soft
and colorful.

Each one sparkled like starlight
and moved with such grace.
But I was told to see the world.
Leave the marble and dust behind.
Let the marrowroot wither.

The living offer much more than the tomb.
But even here, in this frozen land.
I seek out the solitude of the stone.
In my ill-fitting dress and dust-covered shoes,
finally alone, and observing.

Wide-eyed and glad-hearted,
they dance and twirl
full of wonder and drink.

The laughter is genuine, but the eyes,
the eyes say so much more
among these dancing guests,
they have seen so much
death, pain, destruction, loss.

If you know what to look for
you can see it in the air.

It lingers.

The all encompassing dark.

They were right...

it is time to leave the crypt
the darkness is everywhere.
And in everyone.

The Muse

What is it that you wanted?
Calling out to me at such a late hour
to write these lines
about someone I barely knew?

You are the one who cried wolf!

My muse.

Waking me in a fevered sweat
Inspiration dripping on to the pages

...then nothing.

Tap Tap Tap

The pencil on the page

still.

My muse, I am tired of your dark moods
and of all your smoking and drinking,
and your longing gazes out the window
and your long silences.

Especially your long silences
and those goddamn songs you keep playing
Over and over in my head
I can't get them out fast enough for you.

But then silence.

All these lines you've written, through me,
reeking of rain and smoke.

Of drink and desperation
words flowing, forming long grey lines on the page
no form, no thought, just pattern
all this prose and poetry to please you
spreading like a poison, draining me
I give in, I always give in
and then I write

Dark Passenger

Once again, I take to the road,
free, with the world waiting,
the well worn path ahead,
one step, and I am on my way
I ask not for luck on my trip,
I make my own way,
I need nothing from you
I only need the open skies.

With each step, the miles grow,
but still you are here.

I carry you with me
but not slowing my pace.

Every town i visit is filled with people
the beggar in tattered clothes
the staggering drunkard
I pass them by with barely a thought
they are not dear to me
my boots worn by the uneven road,
dusty from the miles between us.

The light that surrounds you,
it guides me and pushes me away.
each cobblestone alley
each ferry and wharf
every house and window
they all have stories
they are part of the journey.

I stop at the cemeteries in every village
the living and the dead mingle here
but they refuse to acknowledge each other
but i see the thread that binds us
each scene is alive, painted in the best light
and the music, it is everywhere.

The winds bring it howling in
and the rain adds to the chorus
the road, it calls to a traveler.

'Come forth, adventurer.
Wear your heels down on my stone,
you will not be lost'
the points are mine to explore,
east, west, I will enjoy you
north and south, we shall meet too.

And i travel with you, so also yours.
I will walk among them men and woman
the common folk and royal ilk
I will learn their stories and ways
and I will add them to my life
to grow and learn under the skies
to sleep against the earth
the world is the best teacher.

I will call it home
under the spacious clouds
beside the flowing stream
past, present, future, all held fast
I will show you the path
the thoughts i have in the darkness
the yearnings that I cannot express
they are washed away by the stream
and will not draw me back.

I will sail the perilous seas
untamed and wild
until Ingoren himself sets my path
and I find the shore.

This girl has no path
this girl has no home
a vagabond to some
a companion to others
I will learn from the farm
I will enjoy fruits from the orchards
the flowers in the gardens
and the spirits that haunt the dark
but on the path, each mile...

I will take you with me.

Given to Ursula Seleivara; the Bard of Drakehall by Sir Thaylis Beign and Nawen Amakiir