1997
[Year #2]
–Autumn of the Roasted Chestnut
–Winter of Reflections
–Spring of the Whispering Willow
–Summer of the Changing Tide
A Collection of Winning Song Contest Entries
Autumn of the Roasted Chestnut
November 16th, 1997
First Place
I Am What is Called
By Egbert the Scholar
One last war cry
Sounds out through the glade
As the victorious woodlanders
Head west as bade.
To their home again
One that won’t be mine
They walk away from this curse
In a silent line.
Away, to their home,
Their footsteps fade.
And I am left alone.
Alone on this glade.
This glade which once was
My little home.
My beautiful home.
But now I must roam.
I am what is called
A causualty of war.
I, me, myself.
Adlaih the Scholar.
I walk away through the bodies
Some which once held my friends.
And I think to myself,
“Might I ever have friends again?”
And I walk past my parents
And feel the tears slide down.
Across my cheeks and off my chin
Onto my evetime gown.
And I curl up
And cry near a stream.
And I sleep.
And I dream.
I wake in the morn
Walk back towards my hole,
Collect a few books,
Some food, and my bowl.
I am what is called
A causualty of war.
I, me, myself.
Adlaih the Scholar.
I walk away from my home
Now wreaked by evil and sin.
I walk away quietly,
Knowing I will never come here again.
Now I am a Scholar
Grown and mature.
But that scene I won’t forget.
Of that, I am sure.
That scene of misery
Of death, of war.
And my little molehole
With its little wooden door.
Sometimes I think of those
Who passed on to Dark Forest.
Or sometimes those woodlanders
Who so long ago turned west.
I am what is called
A causualty of war.
I, me, myself.
Adlaih the Scholar.
Copyright © Egbert the Scholar; Used with permission.
Second Place
Clearspring’s Unnamed Song
By Clearspring
I sat on the walltop of blessed red stone
While the sun sank below the horizon unknown
I gazed at the trees, colored rich for the reason
Of bidding farewell to the warm summer season
~ * ~
The last fingers of warmth touched my sensitive nose
And tendrils of light streaked the sky gorgeous rose
Heaven and treetops met in a flutter
Rustling the leaves of red, orange and butter
~ * ~
The sun bade me goodbye, and I watched it go
It flashed once and suddenly then did I know
The summer had come and gone once again
Preparations for winter would begin soon, then
~ * ~
For that is what autumn is, after all,
Summer is leaving when leaves start to fall
And winter is coming, so best you be ready
If chill weather lasts long and the snowfall is steady
~ * ~
As I sat on the walltop of sandstone deep red
A thought of the wanderers entered my head
Those with no homes, to speak of, at least
Where did they go for a mid-winter feast?
~ * ~
Just then an idea blossomed in me,
Of course, they all has a place the could be
A place they can rest, then leave ‘gain to roam
A place known as Redwall Abbey: my home
Used with permission
Third Place
The Warriors Sword
By Iris Streambattle
A star from the heavens, blazing with light,
Plummeted down to the ground one night.
It buried itself deep inside the sand,
Where a hare on patrol, who had seen it land,
Found it and brought it to the Badger Lord
Who pounded it into the shape of a sword.
All through the night, as the forge fires burned,
The badger recited the names he had learned.
Of warriors brave, who had fought for the truth,
Warriors from stories he had learned in his youth.
And then, with the final hammer blow,
He spoke one last name, a name that we know.
A noble hero, loved by all–
Martin the Warrior, founder of Redwall!
He wrapped it in barkcloth to keep it safe.
And the new, shining weapon to Martin he gave.
The rest of the story I’m sure that you know.
With each new adventure, the sword’s fame would grow.
Many warriors carried it, all strong and true.
And now, on this day, I shall give it to you.
Be brave young warrior, wield this sword well.
And someday your story in song we will tell.
Used with permission
Winter of Reflections
February 1st, 1998
First Place
Song of the Pirate Pond Dibbuns
By Treerose
Oh, we’re pirate dibbuns through and through,
We’re rascals grim and bold,
We sail upon the shining blue,
Through dangers great untold.
Refrain:
Since the abbey pond of Redwall,
Is where we’ll always stay,
In times of calm, or in a squall-
Hoist anchor, we’re away!!
Our ships we sail with keen delight,
Our names are known throughout
We vanquish vermin left and right,
We’re fierce without a doubt.
(Ref.)
We’re terrors of the rolling seas,
We attack without a care,
Our plunder ever will increase,
Vermin should beware!
(Ref)
Though pirates bold, we will defend,
Those honest, good and true,
Disaster ever shall impend,
For vermin on the blue.
Refrain:
Since the abbey pond of Redwall,
Is where we’ll always stay,
In times of calm, or in a squall-
Hoist anchor, we’re away!
Yes, dibbuns of the rolling main,
We rule the seas with might,
We’ve always been the vermin’s bane,
And heroes for the right.
(Ref.)
Used with permission
Second Place
My Story
By Clearspring
I was born on a warm spring eve
In a tiny river den
Our home along the River Moss
Was happy way back then
My mother called me Clearspring
And my pa agreed
My brothers ‘n’ I were best of friends
Insep’rable, indeed
Then came the summer to the wood
Hot weather did it bring
We swam about in my dear river
‘Twas such a change from spring
Then up the coast one day had sailed
Some seascum in a ship
They thrashed their way inland and said
“Yer gonna take a trip!”
Our paws were bound with rawhide strips
They marched us day and night
I cried, I was so frightened
Then my brother decided to fight
The vermin had outnumbered him
At least three to one
He lay there, hurt and bleeding,
And the searats found it fun
We were dragged aboard their scummy ship
And shackled to the oars
They cracked the whips and pounded drums
Screaming, “Row and row some more!”
The moans and groans of all the slaves
Hurtled ’round inside my head
A single tear ran down my cheek
As I thought of my gentle bed
The ship traveled down the River Moss
Getting closer to the sea
But then the Cap’n howled in fear,
“The fever, it’s got me!”
Panic erupted among the crew
Then spread down to the hold
‘Twas Dryditch Fever on the vessel
First it took the old
Those who’d survived th’first wave of death
Abandoned ship for shore
The slaves could not, for they were chained
As Dryditch killed some more
Then a mouse, weak with disease
Filed away my chains
With others who that mouse had saved
I ran, aching with pains
I found my family on the beach
Each one too weak to walk
We stayed together all night long
To weak to even talk
The mists of dawn gathered round us all
And seeped into our souls
And when it cleared it took my fam’ly
To walk on grassy knolls
I weeped, for now I was all alone
And my family, they were dead
Grief was raging in my heart,
The fever in my head
I stayed upon the sandy beach
But walked along the shore
I lost all sense of space and time
Remem’bring ’bout before
Then out on their patrol one day
From the mountain came two hares
With pikes ready to fight a foe
And check for vermin lairs
They found me wan’dring all alone
They took me to a place
Of care and warmth and soothing words
To cool my fevered face
After weeks of dedication
By many unknown friends
I woke in a bed, one clean and soft
And I knew I was on the mend
I’ve lived at Redwall for seasons now
But often do I roam
And just the other day I visited
My much belov’d first home
I sit down on the river bank
With mem’ries in my heart
With ma and pa and brothers dear
Never shall we part
Used with permission
Third Place
A Winters’ Day
By Iris Streambattle
Morning breaks, the snow is falling,
Down from grey and cloudy skies.
Dibbuns running, jumping, calling,
Smiles are shining in their eyes.
*
Bundled up in scarves and jackets,
Out of doors is where we go.
Making an unearthly racket,
Out to frolic in the snow.
*
Throwing snowballs, building snowmice,
Though we’re freezing, we don’t care.
Playing in the snow is so nice,
Joy and laughter’s in the air.
*
All too soon the night is falling,
I can’t see beyond my nose.
Mother Mellus now is calling,
“Get inside before you’re froze!”
*
Though it’s night, the fun’s not over.
Now in Cavern Hole we stay.
Singing songs and telling stories,
A perfect end to a winters’ day!
Used with permission
Spring of the Whispering Willow
June 21st, 1998
First Place
Time
By Clearspring
Yesterday it was seaside
Falling asleep to the rhythm of the tide
The sand and the waves
The wind in the caves
Seeing such beauty brought tears to my eyes
~*~
The mountains have seen me before
For I love to be where the eagles will soar
The lowlands beyond
The peaks I was on
Filled my heart, making me want to see more
~*~
Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow?
I live my life for today
Time isn’t a thing we can borrow
I won’t throw my seconds away
~*~
Every day I will see something different and new
So come with me friend, I will travel with you
For under the sky
Is a world great and wide
And my mind always hungry for more things to do
~*~
Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow?
I live my life for today
Time isn’t a thing we can borrow
I won’t throw my seconds away
~*~
Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow?
I live my life for today
Time isn’t a thing we can borrow
I won’t throw my seconds away
For we’re here in our lives only so long
Each minute, each hour, each day
We’re here in our lives only so long
And I’ll not throw my seconds away
Used with permission
Second Place
The Redwallers’ Song
By SarahRose of Noonvale
Inside our abbey
Made of red stone
We always know
That we have a safe home
All of our friends,
With spikes or with fur
They all work together
Each him and each her
We tend to the fields
And the Abbey’s Great Hall
We care for the forest
Winter, summer and fall
The Abbey gives shelter
To those old and young
And even the Dibbuns
Who love to have fun
We fend off the vermin
So evil and mean
Then bury our comrades
Tears wash our faces clean
The cooks are our saviours
They work day and night
To feed all us goodbeasts
What a terrible plight
Otters and hedgehogs
Moles, mice and hares
Bankvoles and shrews
All pull their share
And now, as we feast
In the new, gentle spring
We look all around us
And to give thanks, we sing:
No matter how far
Or how long we shall roam
We will always come back
To fair Redwall, our home.
Used with permission
Third Place
The Day Today is Nameday
By Bronwyn
The day today is Nameday,
Like any morn’ in spring.
A day to laugh, a day to dance,
And to hear good creatures sing!
For when the day is over,
When Redwallers take to bed,
We’ll have a name for our rebirth,
For the season ahead!
Used with permission
Summer of the Changing Tide
September 27th, 1998
First Place
If I Were a Squirrel…
By Gonfetta
Oh, if I was a squirrel I’d swing way up high,
Through the branches of trees, so near to the sky,
But since I am a mouse with my paws on the ground,
I’ll live like a squirrel, my head in the clouds.
And since all that my father has left unto me
Is a beatiful dagger engraved with a ‘G’
and the first Gonff’s old flute which I play like a bird,
‘Tis with these two items I’ll carve out my world.
Oh, if I was a mole I’d be deep underground,
Digging and digging, nowhere to be found,
“Burr, ye coom dawn wif us, young Gonfetta mouse,”
I thank you dear Foremole, but I’d dirty m’blouse.
And since all that my father has left unto me
Is a beatiful dagger engraved with a ‘G’
and the first Gonff’s old flute which I play like a bird,
‘Tis with these two items I’ll carve out my world.
Oh, if I werew a badger I’d travel the west,
Seeking Sal’mandastron would be my quest,
But since I am much smaller then any badger,
I’ll keep my eyes open, adventure will come.
And since all that my father has left unto me
Is a beatiful dagger engraved with a ‘G’
and the first Gonff’s old flute which I play like a bird,
‘Tis with these two items I’ll carve out my world.
Used with permission
Second Place
Snitter’s “Ode to Scoff”
By Twap Kangaroorat
All hares were born to scoff, y’see,
An’ who’d know more ’bout that than me?
T’think, they’re askin’ “want some pie?”
When nobeast loves pie more than I!
I’d eat a ton o’ fresh-picked salad,
About them scones I’d write a ballad.
An’ when it comes to October ale,
Ferget the glass; bring me a pail!
Roasted chestnuts are jus’ fine,
But candied chestnuts are divine!
An’ ya know there’s nothin’ in the world I wouldn’t
Do fer a bowl o’ that Autumn fruit puddin’!
A gel can do wi’ swiggin’ cider,
It puts a warm feelin’ down inside her.
But there’s nothin’ right now I’d like better than
Some strawberry cordial an’ a blackberry flan!
An’ oh! When it comes to a feast o’ the year,
There’s nothin’ that ever sets off such a cheer
From me, the eater of all that is baked,
As a wonderful, crispy, carrot-y cake!
Yes, I’ve scoffed some vittles in my time,
Enough to write a thousand such rhymes!
But one thing I’ll say afore I runs off-
Hip, hip, hoorah! Let’s hear it for scoff!
Used with permission
Third Place
The Mousemaid and the Wanderer
By Iris Streambattle
In a cottage by a river
Lived a mousemaid sweet and fair.
Living all alone for seasons,
Always she was happy there.
*
But on a cold and wintry morning,
A wand’rer came along the way.
Bold and dashing, brave and handsome,
Stole the young maid’s heart away.
*
“Please let me in,” the wand’rer said,
“I feel so hungry, tired and weak.
It’s freezing cold; the wind is blowing,
Rest and shelter do I seek.”
*
She let him in and gave him shelter,
Food and drink and a comfy bed.
But when spring came, she knew he’d leave her,
And so to him these words she said:
*
“I love the, sir, I tell thee truly,
Tho’ my house is humble, small,
Together we could be so happy!
Stay with me for now and all.”
*
But he just laughed, “You are far sweeter
Than any mousemaid I could name.
But spring is here and I must leave you,
The wanderer’s blood runs in my veins.
*
I shall miss you, gentle mousemaid,
And your cottage by the river bank.
But it’s time that I be moving on now,
And for your kindness I thee thank.
*
Perhaps we’ll someday meet again,
If fate does not keep us apart,
Until then I will hold the memory,
Of you deep inside my heart.”
*
The mousemaid wept but could not stop him,
Slowly he prepared to leave.
But then she had an inspiration
That would stop her heart to grieve.
*
“Have your travels in the warm days,
Roam the green and sunlit land.
But come to me when days grow colder,
Held by winter’s icy hand.”
*
He laughed and kissed her on the forehead,
“Mousemaid you are sweet and smart!
I’ll come to you in winter’s fury,
Until then, keep me in your heart.”
*
Together there they passed each winter,
Until that happy, glorious day
Her handsome, dashing wand’rer told her
He finally had come home to stay.
Used with permission
