Difference between revisions of "A soliloquy on becoming a barony"

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'''Subject: Re: [wyewood] Huzzah Wyewood!'''
 
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By HL Robert Trinity the Chicken
 
Hearted
 
  
 
By HL Robert Trinity the Chicken Hearted
 
By HL Robert Trinity the Chicken Hearted
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* Back to [[Wyewood]]
 
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[[Category:Wyewood]]

Latest revision as of 22:29, 17 November 2015

Subject: [Wyewood] FW: Huzzah Wyewood!
Sent date: 09/29/2015 06:44:38 PM

This is attached to an event report. Lady Leticia commissioned me to write something about our first attempt at becoming a barony. It was performed at what I believe was Wyewoods first Yule Feast

robert


Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 18:32:52 -0800
Subject: Re: [wyewood] Huzzah Wyewood!


By HL Robert Trinity the Chicken Hearted

To Barony, or not to Barony, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the shire to change our course. Or to settle into a changed shirehood. And by opposing, baronial status. No more the calm continuity of royal representation. The heart-ache of a thousand repeated discussions. The politics of baronial selection. Devoutly to be wish’d minimal interference, from crown, from outside:

Ay, that’s the rub. For in that selection of leadership, woes may come.

When our patrons shuffle off Bubba’s thrones, must give us pause:

there’s the respect that makes change so perilous.

For those who bear the lead of the debate, the unchanging minds, the repeated points, the pangs of hurt feelings, the lobbying of support, the embracing of change, the fear of change, the fear for our preparations and abilities.

What of actions that may make some depart our village, never to return.

Such has been and shall always be so.

But the dread of Wyewood after change.

The undiscover’d country from where there’s no possible return, puzzles us all.

And makes some rather bear what we know, than to fly to others that we know not of. Thus a fog does make questioners of us all.

And thus the basis of our fears, Is sicklied o’er with the memories of past groups and the endless repeat of history. Wyewood shall travel these paths, and with hope, not lose its soul. Ay, 'tis the greatest fear of them all.