Horns across the Vale

In the days of yore the lands were stricken by the raiders in their ships that ravaged and tore through the sea towns with no mercy.

A horn blows softly across the vale

Like a siren, it wails through hill and dale

The townsmen awake, and close their gate

To prepare for the storm they must await

Even in hours ere long before the light of day

The villagers prepare, and the holy priest and even the perhaps not so pious pray

Guardsmen ready golden armor and silver shields

And sharpen axes and sword the stalwart warriors wield.

The foamy tide and its crimson legend raiders arrive

And upon oaken decks they casually stride

The horns boom out a warning wail

To forward the coming of a truly wild gale

Tall ships, riding breaking waves

Ready to unleash their cargo of rogues ruthless, hearty and brave

Swaggering bravos, and devilishly bold,

Each hell-bent for silver and gold

Anchor chains ride on silver tide

18. As the raiders show the naval knowledge and pride

Chilling cheers echo through morning air as the tip of the sun begins to rise

As the raiders prepare to take their bloody prize

Villagers finish the last barricade and lock every door

As the longboats ride to the shore

Every village is readily prepared

For every coming woe the raiders bring shall be equally  shared

Blood and burning

Women mourning

Grief and tears

The memories of their attackers brutal laughs and sneers

When the raiders come to call

Now, there's a bloodied sky at the hour of dawn

And the battle is at last and finally on

Rams leap against oaken doors

And fire leaps from ashy floors

Arrows hiss into red cloaked raiders and shields

 As the townsfolk refuse to yield

 And every women, hidden with frightened children pray

 That the seagoing raiders shall not win this day

And thus any day at any sight of the ocean will if they be filled with black ships and red sails

Empty shall be the hills and trails

And any who live in this northern clime shall hear the horns echo across the vale.

Author's Note

A tale of the old that can still be enjoyed, please R&R and enjoy

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The strong description brought to life hard life and struggle.
"Blood and burning
Women mourning
Grief and tears
The memories of their attackers brutal laughs and sneers"
The above lines. Felt realistic and true. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[θεά]

I read this before, and I read it still. Powerful stuff and so perfectly placed. You have a skill, and I am glad to welcome you here. You are a very good bard, and I expect you to wow many more poets and readers here.

Welcome, Noobster! You're here to stay!