Poems from Coronet

The following are the poems I performed at court on Saturday. You're welcome to print them in any SCA newsletter, though I'd like a copy, please. (And they're by Branwen ferch Emrys.)

The victory poem for Leon and Muriel (I don't know the Irish spelling of her name):

Seven hawks soared high this morn.
The omens favored birds in flight.
Yet portents grown from feathered sight
forgot the arm that swords adorn.

Talons sharp sought triad blades,
tore deep to find first frothy blood.
Yet tempered steel did scorn the mud
and drove the hawk from Mistland glades.

Seven hawks soared high this morn.
Now one lies fallen, broken, dead,
the victor's wreath on Leon's head
and Muriel roses adorn.

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The award recommendation for Elaine Edgar:

She floats past, graceful in her flowing gown,
rare plumage bright enough to shame a swan,
her grace and beauty gentle as a fawn,
her eyes cast shyly and demurely down.
Where seeks this angel all her raiment fine?
What magic cavern holds such deep delight
that clothes her to be gloriously bright?
What elves or genii drape her form divine?
Her hand alone sews garments for her frame,
choice patterns, fabric, thread to form a whole.
And generosity joins beauty's goal
to sew for others dresses bright as flame.
What beauty can match Laina in her gown?
Maybe a corolla, or little crown.