July 2006

A Pyrates Lyf for Chaucer

Arrrrrgh, ye scurvie swabbes. Yt ys ich, Geoffrey Chaucer, Drede Pyrate and Scourge of the Ocean See. Or at leest so ich was ‘til yeste...

Henri le Potier

On thyse day, as I coked sop for Joane to eten (she groweth teth, so I maye nat haven hir be nursed muchel mower) I was thinkynge of my poe...

Chaus; ower, Shoon

Yeestre day, (ower was hit night?) I notede on myn own journelle that I lyk to buyen chaus. Wel, sin I gan to thinken on the mattir, I con...

My Poetrye

Sin hit be too hoote to goon from the castelle, I have been makynge ordre of my papires and thynges. I founde therein myn poure eldehistori...

Je hai l'Este

A, Sommer. Although hit be ful fair, with al the herbes and tres, and the briddes-song and grene, one may ete naught but chikkones sin al e...

Les Lutins a Les Fraises!

It is oonly now that I mighte deign to speke of thyse, so dredful hit was. Went we, my childeren and Ich, to goon and gathere strewen-b...