Filk number 5, yes, albeit delayed

I am getting this in after midnight because Reasons. Also, I am in a bit of a mood, so what you get is truly obscure, and might not hit anyone else's bone of amusement the way it hits mine. Also, I miss John Brantner, who would be truly horrified but also probably amused by this. We sang at his house. In the words of the round written by Sherry Wohlers Ladig:

Let us sing a round together
In all seasons willing are we
Every other Sunday to meet with friends and
Raise our voices in harmony
Who's the master of the measure?
In this house who keeps the key?
John Brantner, John Brantner, John Brantner, John B!

Brantner, of course, declined to sing what he called so self-centered a final line, so he substituted:

All sing soundly, all sing roundly, soundly roundly is the key!

For which he was immediately dubbed the Obstinato.

Anyhow, none of that is in this filk, except that John Brantner and his fellow singers introduced me to "Sweet Day" or Laudibus, a setting by Ralph Vaughan Williams of the poem Vertue by George Herbert. This filk is, strictly speaking, a filk of the poem, as the musical version is shortened by one verse, but hey, it still could be sung with the second verse restored. Anyhow, here; there are dead people I miss singing with, and some of them would gently tease about goth tendencies, or about my fondness for the Sabine Baring-Gould version of "Now the Day Is Over," or my love of the Gounod setting of "All Praise To Thee My God This Night" and they'd tell me how they "could practically see Marguerite mounting up to heaven!" and so forth. Anyhow, here. I wrote a filk to a song about death and life, so of course it's a goth filk. I wish those friends were still around to tease me about it, but the older one gets, the more of one's friends join the choir invisible.

Sweet Night, or, Very Very Goff

Sweet night, so deep thy velvet black
The robes of darkest midnight sky
My mordant mood’s worn on my back
So goth am I

Black rose, thy hue somber yet sharp
Bids careless laughter cease its cry
And on harmonium and harp
Sings all must die

Dark road where the shadow composes
The solemn path on which we ride
Our wardrobes show we have black clothes-es
All must be dyed

Only a true and morbid soul
Can love both candle and the moth
Songs must have endings to be whole
Then truly goth


Here's a link to the Vaughan Williams arrangement, with a score card so you can know the players: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAYvC9j29Qc

Anyhow, this is the fifth filk for communal_creators which is being a lot of fun so far.

a line to think upon

In something I wrote recently, a line happened that I am going to be thinking about for a while.

"Songs must have endings to be whole."

Huh.

...

....

I want what Mike would write to that.

Sixth filk is actually a poem

Today's offering is about a gaming group I'm in, and our GM. It could easily be a filk, though I have chosen no tune for it as yet.


Game
(possibly a filk in search of a tune, or maybe just a poem)
for MG with delight and gratitude

To your realm we get the call
We join in pixel-lighted hall
You take us to another world
To other semblances unfurled

Tell our stories upside-down
Trace what’s lost into what’s found
If the gods can make a tree
Then who can craft a family?

Being found by getting lost
Each discovery has its cost
Make your loneliness your coin
Friendship’s worth the price to join

Game is play, most serious task
Notes and song list it will ask
Lyrics will our watchwords be
And also “open, sesame!”

So through it all we make our way
This land of life and death and play
Of revels seldom seen by man
And being helpers where we can

O guardian of what’s lost and found
Builder of what rings us round:
Milieu, magic, means, and mood —
For this your game, our gratitude



As is my current custom and happiness, this is for communal_creators. a group of makers of stuff and encouragers of others who do so. Yay!