Get Your Premium Membership

The Wandering Minstrel

In history one can read of an earlier time, When poetry and lyrics written in rhyme, Were commonplace. A travelling band Of troubadours would wander the land, Writing and singing, to bestow delights On ladies, peasants, and errant knights. Their patrons, be they lowly serf or highest Lord, Entertained by devious plots and lyrical chord, Heard tales of knaves, heroes, and battles won: Honour besmirched, or tales of some daring one Who sought the world for a maiden fair. Such chronicles were staples of medieval fare. Minstrels sang of chases where a villain evades Capture by those who hounded him. Escapades Often ended with Heroes living happily evermore! Of such quixotic tales, they had a myriad more. Though some were fiction or as some thought, Others focused on real life and battles fought. Troubadours dispensed critical information, To many isolated communities of a Nation. Regarded the font of most important news, Based often on rumour or personal views. When such items were musically submitted Poetic licence was frequently permitted. Considered ‘knowing’ by a gathered throng, When Minstrels reported events in simple song, They recorded historical events taking place, As they journeyed around from place to place. Some humour would make the tale more inviting Whilst small embellishment made it more exciting. This meant truth could be confused by fantasy; Oft cunningly exploited by the “upper” hierarchy When it suited their plans. By altering the facts In times when the support of disreputable acts Was required, they could easily instigate a riot Or by inflammatory rhetoric, foment disquiet! A few, by use of witty lines, could be malicious Or when muddied with lies, be purely fictitious. Accomplished raconteurs could purposely villify Using rumour and gossip, no one could verify, But most minstrels could only entertain a crowd, If and when local Burghers and By-laws allowed. To us those ways seem strange or merely amuse, For we mostly stay home to get late breaking news. Although some fans attend a live musical group, Except for the novelty, few have heard of a troupe Such as those old Troubadours. There’s little call Today for such as performers of the Old Music Hall. One sometimes sees a Busker; a pale counterpart Who mimics the old minstrel troubadour’s art. With words, music or comical quip he’ll amuse And engage folks, who stand in various queues. Although possessed of talent, few seemingly go far, Though some do persevere, and become a star. Few folks see a performance by a travelling band: Or visit someone performing a one night stand. Today’s counterpart of troubadour or balladeer, Employs an army of helpers, as is plainly clear, Without the lights and sound system folks expect, Their music and words would have little effect. Such is the tone of entertainment in this day and age, Only avid fans gather to hear them perform on stage Where music heard, is attended by pulsating noise, Used to arouse the young, teenaged girls and boys. Today Balladeers have faded into memory’s mists And the true Troubadour or Minstrel no longer exists. Rhymer. February 28th, 2017.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.