good morning lassies & laddies
I am placing "Jeanne D'Arc" in our book soon to be released. Please enjoy with me our maiden's journey.
Clippety clop clippety clop
On horseback white as snow
And just as pure
Sat the fair fair maiden
Bouncing up and bouncing down
O’er boulders brown, through thornbush thick
Rushing freezing rivers and mountain high
The fair fair maiden gallops
En route to meet her king
Into the king’s surround
Our maiden gallops
With guards chasing, threatening their spear
With dust and dirt a’flying
Our maiden reigns her horse to stop
In front his royal majesty’s domain
Jumping down in a curtsy
The fair fair maiden exhorts
Moi roi moi roi
My king my king
Please lend me yon ear
Your humble maiden
God has spoken with me
Told me to rush to my king’s aid
With my army ready and wild
To do battle, to fight the Anglaise
For my king and for France
Into glorious death if must
Moi infans moi fille cherie
Maybe God has spake with you
Maybe God has given you
Foresight of battles to be
I! Thine king orders you
Jeanne D’Arc fille moi
To stand down from battle
Go across the yonder to thine home
To be the woman God meant you to be
Then off Jeanne D’Arc went
Dust billowing and pebbles skittling
And following her horses hoofprint
Her army of many a man
Jeanne’s battle armor shining brilliantly bright
In a raucous of swords, spears clanging clashing
Against headpiece and breastplate
Jeanne D’Arc and her armee
Never did went home
The king and his men
Into battle they went
Spear arrow darken azure blue sky
As it were hurled from hand and bow
Battle cries fierce mingled with woes of pain, fear
As limbs were torn from beast and man
Anglaise Franchaise lay mingled torn apart
Viscera floating on oceans of blood
Sightless eyes accusingly staring in the beyond
To the rescue Jeanne D’Arc charged
Fiery eyes glaring, her sword slashing down
In ruthless arc from high above her prancing horse
Maiming killing her foe
Vive mon Pere, vive la France, vive moi roi
Dashing off into sunset
Drawing away her foe from the slain
Into the Ardenne Jeanne did rode
To nurture and mend her army of men
Off again our maiden rode
To battle again against her foe
But battle for her was not to be
As into ambush she was tricked
Into deceive our Jeanne D’Arc did ride
Brave as she and her army fought
their fighting so in vain
her men were slain
into captivity Jeanne was took
in dungeon dark Jeanne was thrown
her femininity crudely torn from her
into male attire she was forced
the bishops and the clergy
conspired amidst themselves
to find some crime to lay upon our Jeanne
crimes they invented crimes they found
sadly forsaken by France and her king
Jeanne faced tormentor accuser bold as be
As the sun did rose in the east
To the final judgment Jeanne was led
Priest bishop hurling accusations
Thrown to her head in rushing torrent
Guilty you are as charged
You heretic you witch
To the stake with you
Where you will be strung up
And set alight to burn in your very personal hell
And so Jeanne D’Arc was took
In the town square she was hogtied
On a spire of wooden stake
As the fiery tongues of flame
consumed and devoured flesh and wood
Jeanne D’Arc not once denounced her beliefs
Not once did Jeanne betrayed her God
To her God she kept on praying
With her pyre smoke her soul ascended
As the ashes and embers slowly simmered down
Jeanne D’Arc quickly forgotten as her ashes scattered
Scattered o’er Vieux-Marche country by winds of war
Only to be remembered
Much much later, five and twenty years precise
Pope Callixtus III conferred with her king
Was told that Jeanne D’Arc
Burned at the stake for her God
And a saint she was made, posthumus
