NOTE: This is, as I recall, a poem I wrote many, many moons ago when, in a fit inspired by Richard Adams' "Shardik" I envisioned writing a great animal-based novel. Recognzing now my lack of talent for most things writing at the time (not that I've improved much since then) I'm a bit hesitant to present this now. But what the heck. I feel like the dwarf Gibbsson from Terry Pratchett's "Soul Music," ready to laugh at the guitars he made when he was just learning the trade.
Black be the coat, flat be thy snout
Trees and Rivers shall by thy friends
hoe in the claw, dung on the paw
Green Gift and Bounty no end
Brown be the coat, keen be thine eyes
Paws caress good willow and yew
Kin to the hawk, silently stalk
Fire Feasts and families renew
Pink be the fur, firm be thy claw
eye and snout both caress and scorn
soft yet afeared, loved yet revered
Ourscielfurr of thee may be born
Gold be the fur, high be thy brow
thee, heir and descendant of kings
firm be thy jaw, hard be thy law
'til Ourscielfurr's booming voice wings
Red be the hue, hot be thy blood
spear shines in the eyes of the dead
Hard be thy claw, teeth fill thy jaw
fill the dark forests with dread
Grey be the hue, deep be thine eyes
voice booms out of past o ye wise
clear is thy vue, Crow tell ye true
songe secret lights of the skies
White be the glow, brass be thy shield
run swift on the clawed winged feet
sword be of steel, traitors reveal
soldiers of Ourscielfurr's Keep
Blue be the glow, grace be thy name
fight bravely thy fate is made sure
lead and expound, blessings renowned
Blessed One, O Ourscielfurr
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