Hey
How are you?
Was the journey good?
How long did it take?
Come in let me take your coat. Gosh its lighter than it looks
Take a seat and i'll make you a drink.
Would tea be nice or would coffee be better, we have hot choclate too if you'd rather.
We missed you so much, its so nice to see you.
Isn't the weather getting cold now, yes its Samhain tonight.
come you must be cold, sit closer to the fire.
Heres the mug you always used, and heres your ash tray
I know you've probably missed it
here are you slippers, the ones you used to wear, i saved them espcially
do you wan tme to put the foot ball on? or would the boxing be better
you always used to make me laugh to watch you feet twitch as the pretended to kick the ball
your cardigan is in the cupboard if you want me to get it,
dinner wont be long, we've left a place set for you
we've got a sunday roast, i know it was your favourite.
I've gotten much better at cooking them since i last saw you.
you like the gravy thin and runny just like mom,
i've cut the meat thin for you, i know you've had problems chewing
its so nice to see you! its been so long!
I think i was 17 when you went away.
things have changed so much!
u must tell me what you've been up to!
whats it like where you've been?
don't just smile your knowing smile i really want to know!
fine keep your secrets, now how was dinner?
was the veg enough?
it can't be time to go yet
the night is not yet over surely there are hours left
oh well heres your coat.
it was so nice to see you!
wow its misty out there, you can bearly see the road?
is that nan i see in the fog? and little lexy too? and looks theres bonnie and cindy too!
send my love to them as you travel back beyond
travel safe and see you next year!
love you so much,
Happy Samhain!
In honour of William Hadley
Friday, 16 October 2009
Saturday, 10 October 2009
Oh Moon
Oh Moon.
Your white face hides beyond your darkened shroud of mist.
Your beauty I long to behold, you radiance I yearn to feel bless my face
I gaze upon your vacant position in the cloudy expanse.
Your silver energy fills me with a peaceful emotion and a quiet excitement
and my skin tingles as if touched by magic.
Show yourself my beautiful one!
Show you face to me so I may drink upon your magnificence.
I hold your power in highest esteem, a sacred light that cleanses me.
Show your face my sacred one, tease through the clouds that hold you prisoner.
I raise my hands in celebration as I see a cheek appear.
Come to me my love; come to me like a lover through a curtained room.
Appear to me and only me. Share your magic with me alone.
At last you come to me, your skin as pale and as perfect as the day I first set eye upon you
you, who have seen the dark side of the sun.
You lighten up the darkest nights of my life
Oh Moon never leave me again!
Friday, 10 July 2009
A Tree In The Heart Of The City
A tree stands in the heart of the city.
His branches stunted by brick and by mortar
His roots slowly wrapping around the tunnels beneath
Trying to choke the life out of the grumbling rumbling trains below
His bark sheds, removing the poisons, but he can never shed enough
His leaves blackened by cars and trucks rushing around in shifts of red, amber, green.
The magic here left long ago leaving behind only a memory for the tree to grow on.
He dreams of hills of emerald & fields of life with warm southern winds blowing through his arms
He reaches higher, up into the sky trying to ignore the orderly chaos below.
On brick and mortar and steel he climbs and grows, trying to drown out the fracus
A tree stands in the heart of the city,
His branches sway and moan
Reaching out for sunlight and magic.
Making the best of this home...
His branches stunted by brick and by mortar
His roots slowly wrapping around the tunnels beneath
Trying to choke the life out of the grumbling rumbling trains below
His bark sheds, removing the poisons, but he can never shed enough
His leaves blackened by cars and trucks rushing around in shifts of red, amber, green.
The magic here left long ago leaving behind only a memory for the tree to grow on.
He dreams of hills of emerald & fields of life with warm southern winds blowing through his arms
He reaches higher, up into the sky trying to ignore the orderly chaos below.
On brick and mortar and steel he climbs and grows, trying to drown out the fracus
A tree stands in the heart of the city,
His branches sway and moan
Reaching out for sunlight and magic.
Making the best of this home...
Friday, 26 June 2009
Home
The weeks been long and the journey a hard one
The end is in sight, the finish line is near
it'll all be over soon and you'll be home.
What is home? is it a place where you've spent most or your childhood,
is it a place where there are lots of memories?
or is it a place where your heart feels free and you feel at ease.
unguarded because those around are friends
The seats are more comfortable and the beds more restful
The food tastes nicers and the company more interesting
The flowersw brighter and the sunshine more magical.
How I long to be home. The green green fields of home.
The rape seed giving accent to the rolling hills
trees and hedgerow giving form to the music of the country
bird flying between green and yellow to find their nests.
How I long to be home. Where the garden fills with magic
the sheep singing in the distance and the castle glowing in the twilight
How I miss home, with the street lights and stars twinkling brightly in a stellar competition.
alas I am not home, I'm happy but I'm not home.
My world consists of grey as far as the eye can see,
small patches of green hiding between the forrests of houses
there is more wildlife here, i saw some deer yesterday, roaming between the cars
but it is not home.
one day i might return home, with a young family
as that is what home is to me, people who i love and who love me equally
for now i travel between homes but one day i will make one of my own...
The end is in sight, the finish line is near
it'll all be over soon and you'll be home.
What is home? is it a place where you've spent most or your childhood,
is it a place where there are lots of memories?
or is it a place where your heart feels free and you feel at ease.
unguarded because those around are friends
The seats are more comfortable and the beds more restful
The food tastes nicers and the company more interesting
The flowersw brighter and the sunshine more magical.
How I long to be home. The green green fields of home.
The rape seed giving accent to the rolling hills
trees and hedgerow giving form to the music of the country
bird flying between green and yellow to find their nests.
How I long to be home. Where the garden fills with magic
the sheep singing in the distance and the castle glowing in the twilight
How I miss home, with the street lights and stars twinkling brightly in a stellar competition.
alas I am not home, I'm happy but I'm not home.
My world consists of grey as far as the eye can see,
small patches of green hiding between the forrests of houses
there is more wildlife here, i saw some deer yesterday, roaming between the cars
but it is not home.
one day i might return home, with a young family
as that is what home is to me, people who i love and who love me equally
for now i travel between homes but one day i will make one of my own...
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Man-shaped Animal
we roll around in our cosy little nests as the sun pours in.
warm in the knowledge that we are safe.
no creatures outside hunting us to eat
no preditor to keep our numbers at bay
up we get and walk around and feel life in our limbs
we wash and eat and feed our young to start the day anew
we walk outside in the summer air sniffing the fragrances aflight
we stare as someone walks too close in that precious space so close
they might be a threat, draw yourself in ready for attack
we laugh at those slightly different, the coldness of our nature showing
we do not need camoflage a fact so few remember.
thoughs who stand out from the norm, so often seen as odd
we attack things that are different, because we don't understand
we squabble over territory and loose a few of our kind on the way
thats the price to pay for keeping our turf safe.
but we forget that we're all the same on the inside
our covers can be deceiving
when you sit down and think about it,
what a man shaped animal we are
if we are so similar, what else do you think we might share?
animals don't care about money, and it does them the world of good
animals keep each other in check, if only we had that too
animals tend to live in peace, and yes there are exceptions
but all in all, maybe we should follow their example!
warm in the knowledge that we are safe.
no creatures outside hunting us to eat
no preditor to keep our numbers at bay
up we get and walk around and feel life in our limbs
we wash and eat and feed our young to start the day anew
we walk outside in the summer air sniffing the fragrances aflight
we stare as someone walks too close in that precious space so close
they might be a threat, draw yourself in ready for attack
we laugh at those slightly different, the coldness of our nature showing
we do not need camoflage a fact so few remember.
thoughs who stand out from the norm, so often seen as odd
we attack things that are different, because we don't understand
we squabble over territory and loose a few of our kind on the way
thats the price to pay for keeping our turf safe.
but we forget that we're all the same on the inside
our covers can be deceiving
when you sit down and think about it,
what a man shaped animal we are
if we are so similar, what else do you think we might share?
animals don't care about money, and it does them the world of good
animals keep each other in check, if only we had that too
animals tend to live in peace, and yes there are exceptions
but all in all, maybe we should follow their example!
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Happy Solstice 09 (at the long man of wilmington)
The sun rides high over head, watching as we stand here on this sacred pedestal.
The nature, rich around us.
The hills rising from out of the earth as if the Goddess is exposing her bountiful breasts.
The Long Man stands resting on her bosom caressing her skin with his hands.
He looks down to us as we call for peace, watching with divine delight.
Peace in the North, an Earth filled with love
Peace in the South, a heat full of passion
Peace in the West, the air full of hope
Peace in the East, an Ocean full of life.
The world shifts as the circle closes.
Everything remains the same but we've moved to the ether.
Watching the land through a haze as the Arwen radiates out from us, soothing the land of its pains like a mother cradling her baby.
The air vibrates with the heat of our call.
Grant O' Spirit thy protection.
Cuddle us in your loving arms as we sing lullaby and verse to our mistress.
We break bread and share mead as the air starts to still.
Our life force slowly separating from that of our vast mother.
We give thanks and dip our heads.
The gentle giant, pleased, as he holds open the door.
If we return, he will still be there, waiting to let us in!
Just bring mead, bread, a fire in your hearts and good cheer in your soul and all are welcome!
Happy Solstice!
(everyone)
The nature, rich around us.
The hills rising from out of the earth as if the Goddess is exposing her bountiful breasts.
The Long Man stands resting on her bosom caressing her skin with his hands.
He looks down to us as we call for peace, watching with divine delight.
Peace in the North, an Earth filled with love
Peace in the South, a heat full of passion
Peace in the West, the air full of hope
Peace in the East, an Ocean full of life.
The world shifts as the circle closes.
Everything remains the same but we've moved to the ether.
Watching the land through a haze as the Arwen radiates out from us, soothing the land of its pains like a mother cradling her baby.
The air vibrates with the heat of our call.
Grant O' Spirit thy protection.
Cuddle us in your loving arms as we sing lullaby and verse to our mistress.
We break bread and share mead as the air starts to still.
Our life force slowly separating from that of our vast mother.
We give thanks and dip our heads.
The gentle giant, pleased, as he holds open the door.
If we return, he will still be there, waiting to let us in!
Just bring mead, bread, a fire in your hearts and good cheer in your soul and all are welcome!
Happy Solstice!
(everyone)
Friday, 15 May 2009
The Dread
It fills me early in the morning
flailing inside my chest
like and angry screaming thing
its fury thuds behind my eyes
it brings my breath in short sharp gasps
and flood my eyes with tears
the dread is a fear that wakes me from my dreams
its 2 in the morning and I am awake
there is something in the room
my panic fills me, blinds me
my vision swims as sleep pulls me back under
where i dream dark dreams until 4:48
the alarm goes off and its time for work
the dreads is here once more
my palms start to sweat and my pulse speed up
i swallow and am chocked my saliva
a hot tear pours down my face
the pillow is already damp where my head has been
All this hastle for a day at work... So not worth it!
flailing inside my chest
like and angry screaming thing
its fury thuds behind my eyes
it brings my breath in short sharp gasps
and flood my eyes with tears
the dread is a fear that wakes me from my dreams
its 2 in the morning and I am awake
there is something in the room
my panic fills me, blinds me
my vision swims as sleep pulls me back under
where i dream dark dreams until 4:48
the alarm goes off and its time for work
the dreads is here once more
my palms start to sweat and my pulse speed up
i swallow and am chocked my saliva
a hot tear pours down my face
the pillow is already damp where my head has been
All this hastle for a day at work... So not worth it!
Monday, 11 May 2009
Holding hands with the sky
Swooping past, high, over head
Her darkened beak doth point the way
Her wings outstretched and there she's lead
The Gods hold her hands, so she doth not stray
You see their fingers within her feathers
As they spray out at the ends
You never see the Gods though,
They have their own paths to mend.
The Crow is but a messenger
a helper for the wild lords
she tells us of the dangers
and helps us cross the fjords.
Over the roads blessed with water
Lies another land just out of reach
for this is where the faerie folk
watch, dance, sing and teach.
So over field, hill and barrow
The Crow doth fly so high
you’ll see her outstretched sprayed out wings
holding hands with the sky.
Her darkened beak doth point the way
Her wings outstretched and there she's lead
The Gods hold her hands, so she doth not stray
You see their fingers within her feathers
As they spray out at the ends
You never see the Gods though,
They have their own paths to mend.
The Crow is but a messenger
a helper for the wild lords
she tells us of the dangers
and helps us cross the fjords.
Over the roads blessed with water
Lies another land just out of reach
for this is where the faerie folk
watch, dance, sing and teach.
So over field, hill and barrow
The Crow doth fly so high
you’ll see her outstretched sprayed out wings
holding hands with the sky.
Sunday, 10 May 2009
Where did the Bardic Path begin for me?
That’s the first of the essays and project I'll be doing for a while.
Welcome to my online Blog following my rise to Bard-dom. I'm following "the Bardic Handbook’s” 12 month course on becoming a Bard and it's been suggested that writing an online blog for others also starting their path would be good and it would also be the start of a 'sort of' performance for myself so... without further adoo...
Greetings, my name is Crydwyn Louise. I started life as Gemma Louise Crydwyn Holt. Born in a small hospital somewhere in the suburbs of Birmingham, the name 'Gemma' came about when my mother tried to call me Jenna, but couldn't pronounce it because of the epidural. That was the 1st stroke of fate.
The second stroke was to fall just seconds after when my parents had decided to give me the middle name me Crydwyn in honour of my Nan.
My Nan, who now walks in the Summerland, had died almost exactly a month before, and in her parting had bestowed the gift of her wonderful Welsh name upon my head. So Gemma Louise Crydwyn Holt was born. The Crydwyn name remained hidden behind the others for the first few years of my life, only coming about when I wanted to show off my interesting heritage (and cool name!) and that’s where it stayed...
But mean while in the grand web of life, in a small 'L' shaped kitchen. Wooden and white units covered the walls. The windows were steamed up from a recently boiled Kettle. There was a cupboard under the stairs which doubled up as a laundry room. The dining room sat to the opposite end making the 'L' shape longer. It was just getting dark making the steamed up little kitchen quite intimate. I had asked my parents to sit around the dining room table in the cute way a little 4 year old girl does, and there they sat, knowingly asking how long I'd be.
"Just a minute" I told them, as I tucked the bed sheet I'd found folded up in the laundry, down my collar to create a makeshift cloak.
"Are you ready?" I called, and amongst their cheerful reply I jumped out from behind the cupboard to face them "MAKE A START FOR... GEMMA" I shouted, and they all clapped, as I then started to sing the nursery rhyme most popular at that moment (which was usually Bah Bah Black Sheep) and so it went on,
In later years I got up and did karaoke-but we won’t go there. *cringe* There’s only so much Tina Turner to this day that I can cope with after that phase of my life. But let’s just say that singing and acting up for the audience was always my thing as a kid. When I went High school I joined the choir and did a bit of touring, nothing too major (and believe me my voice is nothing too special, I can hold a tune, that’s about it) I joined a few of the school plays, I must admit, I think it was to dress up and show off more than the actual play. The during sixth form, I studied theatre studies. It was a very good course and of course the exams were oral exams which meant performing. I'm not a particularly good actor either certainly not very believable when it comes to Greek tragedy but then again I'm a pretty happy person or maybe I just didn't try very hard, I was at school after all. but that was my performance history in a nutshell, and to be quite honest, that’s pretty much where it ended.
It’s not been so many years since then but a lot has happened. My finding Paganism is probably the most life changing of them all. I had been a pagan from birth almost, although I had never really known the word for it. I had always liked nature and the world around me, but I think my love of nature had come from my parents, my love of music and my film choices.
Now there is a lot of criticism over the amount of TV children watch in recent times but I don't think it’s how much they watch, it’s what they watch that can make the difference. I was brought up on Labyrinth, Dark Crystal, Jason and the Argonauts, Lord of the Rings (of course) and Sinbad, so my thirst for fantasy and adventure had been whet.
My parents read me bed time stories and would help me expand my imagination but helping me build dens and teaching me how to draw. Their open mindedness is undoubtedly the reason I am who I am today. We would go out on drives and get ourselves lost on purpose and see what mysteries and ‘undiscovered’ surprises we could find. We would holiday in Wales a lot, one of my favourite times we hired a cottage with a pony called Eric. Seeing the country side in its unspoilt glory always amazed me. I was fortunate as a child to have parents that loved Britain and its history, for many-a-time would I go to castles and ancient battle grounds and places so steeped in history it was as intoxicating as a fine wine, waiting for the perfect year to be sampled.
Finally my music taste... Music has always been a big part of my life also, not so much the playing as I’m still tinkering around with my guitar (us Sagittarians’ never get anything finished!) But the listening was always my escape. I would fall to sleep every night with music playing in the background. (a hibit I’ve only just recently grown out of) When I was a kid I wasn't like any normal kid I knew. I listened to mo-town and rock music, and my favourite at the time had to be classical. I remember lying in my bed at night falling to sleep the beautiful sounds of Holst and his planet suits (especially Jupiter, even today that holds a special place in my heart) all the way to Beethoven and his unfinished symphony. They were all my loves. I remember listening to Jupiter thinking of vast and flowing fields of green, Kings and Queens in their vibrant best, castles, servants and knights bearing their colours. The imagery was so rich that even today the colours in my mind are as luminescent as they were as a 6 year old.
These things have twisted and changed and have formed my love of Britain and of History, and of the great wealth that Paganism has to offer. It wasn’t really until I met my fiancé that I found my path. I’d always dabbled and looked into things but even though I had classed myself as a Pagan, He has helped me understand who I am and where it is I should be pointing myself. Paul and I (that’s his name... the other half) have been going to a sword fighting re-enactment group for a while he’s been training to be a swordfighter where as I had been looking into the other guilds. I enjoy making jewellery and as my names sake suggests, I also love gemstones, so I joined the beading guild, then I heard about the Bard's guild. Before that moment I had never really thought about being a bard. So I went and I sat in on the workshop that was going on. It was interactive, where everyone had to add something to the story. It was wonderful, and best of all I was able to keep up and think of something. It was fun. It got me thinking about joining the guild and maybe doing it outside of the society.
A few weeks late I’d gone to Treadwell’s bookshop in London and I found the Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring. I had recently been introduced to Damh the Bard (an artist I seriously recommend!!!) I thought it might be interested looking into the Bardic traditions. So I looked up my names today to see what inspiration my parents had gifted me with, and they’ve oddly gifted me well! ‘Gemma’ was a Medieval Italian nickname meaning "gem, precious stone". It was borne by the 13th-century wife of the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. (bit of a coincidence, as I’ve always enjoyed reading and writing poetry) Louise is of old German origin, and its meaning is "Famous Warrior". (Again, I do sword fighting, another coincidence me thinks) and finally Crydwyn (It seems likely that it is a derivative of Cerridwen) means "blessed poetry" from Welsh cerdd "poetry" and gwen "white, fair, blessed".
How interesting eh? Well that’s me; this is how I started on the road which will hopefully be a long and rewarding one! Hopefully, If you are thinking about becoming a bard, hopefully this should give you some inspiration.
If you're looking for the Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring the ISBN no is:0-906-362-67-9
Thank you for reading and wish me luck. xxx
Welcome to my online Blog following my rise to Bard-dom. I'm following "the Bardic Handbook’s” 12 month course on becoming a Bard and it's been suggested that writing an online blog for others also starting their path would be good and it would also be the start of a 'sort of' performance for myself so... without further adoo...
Greetings, my name is Crydwyn Louise. I started life as Gemma Louise Crydwyn Holt. Born in a small hospital somewhere in the suburbs of Birmingham, the name 'Gemma' came about when my mother tried to call me Jenna, but couldn't pronounce it because of the epidural. That was the 1st stroke of fate.
The second stroke was to fall just seconds after when my parents had decided to give me the middle name me Crydwyn in honour of my Nan.
My Nan, who now walks in the Summerland, had died almost exactly a month before, and in her parting had bestowed the gift of her wonderful Welsh name upon my head. So Gemma Louise Crydwyn Holt was born. The Crydwyn name remained hidden behind the others for the first few years of my life, only coming about when I wanted to show off my interesting heritage (and cool name!) and that’s where it stayed...
But mean while in the grand web of life, in a small 'L' shaped kitchen. Wooden and white units covered the walls. The windows were steamed up from a recently boiled Kettle. There was a cupboard under the stairs which doubled up as a laundry room. The dining room sat to the opposite end making the 'L' shape longer. It was just getting dark making the steamed up little kitchen quite intimate. I had asked my parents to sit around the dining room table in the cute way a little 4 year old girl does, and there they sat, knowingly asking how long I'd be.
"Just a minute" I told them, as I tucked the bed sheet I'd found folded up in the laundry, down my collar to create a makeshift cloak.
"Are you ready?" I called, and amongst their cheerful reply I jumped out from behind the cupboard to face them "MAKE A START FOR... GEMMA" I shouted, and they all clapped, as I then started to sing the nursery rhyme most popular at that moment (which was usually Bah Bah Black Sheep) and so it went on,
In later years I got up and did karaoke-but we won’t go there. *cringe* There’s only so much Tina Turner to this day that I can cope with after that phase of my life. But let’s just say that singing and acting up for the audience was always my thing as a kid. When I went High school I joined the choir and did a bit of touring, nothing too major (and believe me my voice is nothing too special, I can hold a tune, that’s about it) I joined a few of the school plays, I must admit, I think it was to dress up and show off more than the actual play. The during sixth form, I studied theatre studies. It was a very good course and of course the exams were oral exams which meant performing. I'm not a particularly good actor either certainly not very believable when it comes to Greek tragedy but then again I'm a pretty happy person or maybe I just didn't try very hard, I was at school after all. but that was my performance history in a nutshell, and to be quite honest, that’s pretty much where it ended.
It’s not been so many years since then but a lot has happened. My finding Paganism is probably the most life changing of them all. I had been a pagan from birth almost, although I had never really known the word for it. I had always liked nature and the world around me, but I think my love of nature had come from my parents, my love of music and my film choices.
Now there is a lot of criticism over the amount of TV children watch in recent times but I don't think it’s how much they watch, it’s what they watch that can make the difference. I was brought up on Labyrinth, Dark Crystal, Jason and the Argonauts, Lord of the Rings (of course) and Sinbad, so my thirst for fantasy and adventure had been whet.
My parents read me bed time stories and would help me expand my imagination but helping me build dens and teaching me how to draw. Their open mindedness is undoubtedly the reason I am who I am today. We would go out on drives and get ourselves lost on purpose and see what mysteries and ‘undiscovered’ surprises we could find. We would holiday in Wales a lot, one of my favourite times we hired a cottage with a pony called Eric. Seeing the country side in its unspoilt glory always amazed me. I was fortunate as a child to have parents that loved Britain and its history, for many-a-time would I go to castles and ancient battle grounds and places so steeped in history it was as intoxicating as a fine wine, waiting for the perfect year to be sampled.
Finally my music taste... Music has always been a big part of my life also, not so much the playing as I’m still tinkering around with my guitar (us Sagittarians’ never get anything finished!) But the listening was always my escape. I would fall to sleep every night with music playing in the background. (a hibit I’ve only just recently grown out of) When I was a kid I wasn't like any normal kid I knew. I listened to mo-town and rock music, and my favourite at the time had to be classical. I remember lying in my bed at night falling to sleep the beautiful sounds of Holst and his planet suits (especially Jupiter, even today that holds a special place in my heart) all the way to Beethoven and his unfinished symphony. They were all my loves. I remember listening to Jupiter thinking of vast and flowing fields of green, Kings and Queens in their vibrant best, castles, servants and knights bearing their colours. The imagery was so rich that even today the colours in my mind are as luminescent as they were as a 6 year old.
These things have twisted and changed and have formed my love of Britain and of History, and of the great wealth that Paganism has to offer. It wasn’t really until I met my fiancé that I found my path. I’d always dabbled and looked into things but even though I had classed myself as a Pagan, He has helped me understand who I am and where it is I should be pointing myself. Paul and I (that’s his name... the other half) have been going to a sword fighting re-enactment group for a while he’s been training to be a swordfighter where as I had been looking into the other guilds. I enjoy making jewellery and as my names sake suggests, I also love gemstones, so I joined the beading guild, then I heard about the Bard's guild. Before that moment I had never really thought about being a bard. So I went and I sat in on the workshop that was going on. It was interactive, where everyone had to add something to the story. It was wonderful, and best of all I was able to keep up and think of something. It was fun. It got me thinking about joining the guild and maybe doing it outside of the society.
A few weeks late I’d gone to Treadwell’s bookshop in London and I found the Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring. I had recently been introduced to Damh the Bard (an artist I seriously recommend!!!) I thought it might be interested looking into the Bardic traditions. So I looked up my names today to see what inspiration my parents had gifted me with, and they’ve oddly gifted me well! ‘Gemma’ was a Medieval Italian nickname meaning "gem, precious stone". It was borne by the 13th-century wife of the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. (bit of a coincidence, as I’ve always enjoyed reading and writing poetry) Louise is of old German origin, and its meaning is "Famous Warrior". (Again, I do sword fighting, another coincidence me thinks) and finally Crydwyn (It seems likely that it is a derivative of Cerridwen) means "blessed poetry" from Welsh cerdd "poetry" and gwen "white, fair, blessed".
How interesting eh? Well that’s me; this is how I started on the road which will hopefully be a long and rewarding one! Hopefully, If you are thinking about becoming a bard, hopefully this should give you some inspiration.
If you're looking for the Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring the ISBN no is:0-906-362-67-9
Thank you for reading and wish me luck. xxx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)