[Ansteorra] Keep your eye on the Ram, Pam

[David Lathrop]

Keep your eye on the Ram, Pam 

Good people of Bordermarch, come gather round,

To hear a small tale of the joy our Pam found.

Throughout her short life little Pam wondered why,

She was born with only one pretty blue eye!



Her dear father Pugal would not even mourn,

When her mother went missing the day Pam was born.

For Pugal was busy knee-deep in the mud,

He was culling the swine to purchase a jug.



The jugs usually full of quick mead, freshly made,

And Pugal agreed at the price to be paid.

He never was one to let things go to waste,

But death is so quick from the juice of bad grapes.



Little Pam was a waif, and lived on the street,

She'd drink sour ale and eat old rotted meat.

I caught a quick glimpse whilst in town for the day,

And noticed her blue eye kept looking my way.



My heart was broken for this lonely young child,

For sure without help she soon would be wild.

I then swore an oath to the earth and the sky,

We'll help this poor girl with one pretty blue eye. 



I gathered together the best of my spies,

And told them the plan, and showed them the whys.

All took a knee with blades on their hearts,

The quest would be long, they were ready to start.



We waited and watched as Pam became feral,

She spent her days crouching under cooper's oak barrels.

Her nights were filled with dreams of wild hogs,

As she walked in her sleep and barked like a dog.



Time passed us slowly, we waited for word,

>From our network of spies nothing was heard. 

The day little Eric tugged the bell's rope,

Faith that was lost was turned into hope.



The tattered man staggered when he reached the last step,

Then spoke of his journey with his foul, raspy breath.

He spoke how he quested in the land of Gleann Abhann,

He was captured and tortured, and accused of sheep robbing.



Through God's own grace and a contest of wit,

They freed him and gave him the most sacred of gifts.

All that was left was spent flesh and some bones,

Still, he bundled the gift and then headed for home..



The cloth fell away that protected his head.

As he slumped to the ground, I knew he was dead. 

Then deep from the folds of his tattered remains,

We saw what seemed like movement again.



Behold!  Our spy had met with success,

He brought the gift back, though, for him it was death.

The one pretty blue eye on the child we called Pam,

It sparkled with wonder when she spotted the Ram.



Now poor little Pam has a penchant for ham, 

So I think it's ok if she cares for the Ram.

She'll pick off the ticks and scour for fleas,

In a jar of pure crystal she'll place them for me.



Pam and the Ram will frolic and play,

They'll dance in the willows all through the day.

When night  finally falls, they'll  sleep without sobbing,

And dream of Black Stars, and not of Gleann Abhann.



Pam and the Ram are still sort of young,

Their lessons in life are still to be won.

But we must be prepared least the Ram starts it rutting,

And ready the axe-man for the inevitable de-...



HE Santiago