Troubadours Poems - Poems about Troubadours

We poets, writers, misfits of the world like artist or mystics or troubadours use our gifts to give insight to others we offer more pulling back the covers. We did not fit in with most of our peers. When young we were often taunted to tears. We often were quiet, in our own zone. And most of the time you’d find...

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The travellers wandered with word and song Along the banks of the river long, As each one chose their place to play, Peeling off from the crowns along the way. Stories told from near and far, Reflect in the river as she reaches the bar, Flowing from source to salty sea, The land’s life blood, veins eternally. Through...

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French troubadours sing their praises melodic tune gently raises mystical awareness of the throng the king’s concubine finds voice in song many a love match in throne room hazes sensuality in these phrases smoldering looks among youthful gazes, lustful lunges do not seem wrong French troubadours song soulful feelings burn heart in blazes twisted emotions lost in mazes many young women shipped to Hong Kong Not understanding...

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We poets, writers, misfits of the world like artist or mystics or troubadours use our gifts to give insight to others we offer more pulling back the covers. We did not fit in with most of our peers. When young we were often taunted to tears. We often were quiet in our own zone. And most of the time you’d find...

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How would shuffling beggars dethrone a King o'erthrow a tyrant stand unarmed before an army unite with weary peasants to pass a nod, a look mouth the words unspoken yet whistled in the wind-threshed wheat by time's troubadours singing for the pittance of the poor raising the angst of anger in empty bellies sharing words that fill a soul with hope a heart with rage a mind with wonder armed with but a song a tune...

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There once was a super good rapper He wasn’t so good as a mapper He got lost in the woods It wasn’t so goods He had to become a capper...

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Teasing and loving ladies near and far Robust are they, their mead in a jar Over the hills their words ring out loud Under the trees they sing tall and proud Boasting of great adventures from their sorted past Among the village folk, a crowd gathers fast Dance, drink and be merry they hum One plays the panpipes, the other the drum Up...

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