The Ram King

Finian O’Niall

Early one morning, a walking I went,
Wandering by both field and forest green.
Gently the waters of a vast river seemed to sing.
Softly and sweetly to slumber I was enchanted.

As I laid there sleeping, my spirit soared.
Sounding out, fourteen times heard I the herald’s horn of the king’s reign
Royal rams numbering fourteen took to bended knee
Neither knelt nor bowed did the fifteenth answer.

The last and first, the Eastern ram stood defiant.
Dignified and bold, he stood beside the lilied blade.
Benevolent and kingly, the crowned ram sought loyal subjects.
Sixteen and seven signs to him were told.

Traveling both north and east day to night turned.
Then three stars clustered in the corner caught his eye.
Even as darkness washed the land waving light of two stars
Showed the Ram King a wreath of laurel illuminated by lighted turret.

Foreseen the fledgeling king foraged further north
Neither weariness nor weather his journey arrested.
A field of gold, the grand goat found, and
A wolf, bloodied and thrice victorious, most fierce.

Wandering westward over hill and mountain top,
the Ram King watched for the signs most divine.
Dark it was, but three stars shone and sparkled.
Silvered, he saw, a bear crowned with a victor’s winnings.

In his lengthy tour the lordly beast did not tarry long
Light was his heart as he ever continued.
Coming to bends of two blue brooks he saw in contrast between
Blackened from age a laurel and a cauldron of the blackest iron.

Cold grew the air and ice covered the land.
Lost, the Ram wandered until he heard such mirthful music.
Mystified, he marveled at a mermaid with harp in hand.
Half in green water and on snow, lay a green laurel frozen to the core.

Carrying onward, the crowned Ram came to clearing
Coffled were three smiths laying hammers upon the anvils’ weight
White above and white below were two crowned champions,
Cornered apart by the lapis covered wall of a castle.

As leaving the northern hills, came the Ram to a man crossing two kingdoms,
Caught with one foot in one and one in the other, he dared not withdraw
Wisely the Ram took him to his back to bear the weight.
With neither foot in either, the King welcomed him aboard.

Southward, the Ram King sought his next subjects true
Three stars shone down signaling his way.
Warriors two, armed with axes locked together,
Their own victory bound to the other never separate.

Searching still, the Sovereign sought the next sign to follow.
Found he, a shrouded field of silvered French flowers.
From the middle of the field a golden castle rose up.
Upon reddened soil, he found wreathed with laurel a French lily solely.

Though tiring his travels turned, the Ram King wavered never.
Night most pitch parted by a moonlit beam.
Black a tower topped laurelled twine stood in silvery light.
Lilies of France frame the tower, frosted to silvery tint.

Dark and dreary, the land drew until it fell pitch.
Pale the sky grew as morning came to that place.
Peaceful the Ram found it in the penumbra of an ancient tree.
Token of age-old victory rested there in a crimson ditch.

Then the Ram King found an eagle fledgeling,
Fallen from sky to water locked rock.
Ravaged, yet resilient it lingered in a long shadow of an axe
Answered the fading eagle, he did, to the Ram’s trumpet.

Labored his journey long, came the king to a land dread
Dark and cruel the water was and about it most eerie.
Even in death, the specter refused to relinquish.
Rotted was the hand that held aloft his gloried laurel.

Though still the gloom gathered the grand goat rathered
Roads that lead to the moss covered Cyprus tree most tattered
Toe to knee deep was the tree in moon stuck water
With the road thus rode upon, it was one more taken.

Ever lightened became the sovereign’s soul as he heard melodies so sweet
Songs of feathered fowl and a feel of everlasting spring
Saw he there a blackened phoenix in fiery flames writhing.
With laurel green and burning bright the bird renews its life eternal.

Heard he then, the Ram King, a wrathful roar.
Readied, the grand goat prepared himself for what was to come.
Crowned with glorious victory, he saw a golden dragon.
Dread it was for it rendered silver clouds from darkened heaven.

Heading back eastward, the sky glowed with an eldritch gleam.
Golden there found the fledgeling king a glorious compass true
The white waved water shook the southern shore.
Scarlet the evening sky to deep red did hue.

Following the water’s edge ever east, the Ram King found
Foam-crested waves washing upon the shore.
Sunning itself lingered with laurels green the golden lion of the sea.
Subject could the Ram King find few so fierce and free.

Even as his boundings began to its beginnings,
Blackened was the field that the Ram King found.
Framed by victory’s token, fought two serpents dire,
Dragons most fierce and knotted and entwined.

The darkened dirt represents the richness the land reaps.
Royalty and rabble require those who toil.
There the Royal Ram found heavy the hammer golden.
Growing there green the vine and golden the laurel triumphant.

Ready to return home, the Royal Ram grew.
Great now grew the tale of the Ram and the subjects gathered.
Golden and black the weasel lead the King to a clearing.
Crowned with emerald laurel, there he found, a bull reddened.

Finally his journey judged to be drawing done,
Deep, the color of Roman imperial was the field he found.
Foreseen was this field, and he on looked with wonder.
Winged, a stag upon laurel silver was poised and ready for flight.

Lastly though the long journey yet lingered
Loyalty found, the last subject answered
A field of roses red and pansies purple.
Proudly poised there a raven within white laurels.

Valiant and validated, the Ram King looked to see what had turned.
Twenty-three herds now made one.
Over land and under heaven, let it be said
Stands now the Kingdom of the River Valley.

But nothing is constant, until it is tried and found true.
Then the Ram King felt call to rally his rams
Returning the Ram, to meet his former master,
Marshaled the forces of Gleann Abhann seen not before.

There the Ram King came once more to Hastings Field
Found he, the Ram King, a field of black and snow covered.
Cruel is conflict and cruel is war
When fighting finished, the snow was soaked with blood through.

Banishing finally the gossamer thoughts of my dreams
Dark was the field where I languidly lingered
Lordly kings numbering eighteen gathered
Greeted they, the Great Goat, then and now as brother.

Wondrous the things witnessed I all because most eagerly,
Early one morning, a walking I went.