A Nobel Reception
A reception worthy of a tale my Lords 
A tale I say: forget this not but pass along.
As we set sail on a journey most perilous 
Towards the naked north in a solid ship 
Of your own kind sponsorship;
Across the borderless sea 
Rough and ready,
We took aim for their archipelago
The native tribes of troubles 
And their inevitable demise.
The journey lasted but a five full moons 
And we found us on the longest day 
Slowly approaching a ragged land 
Of cliffs and cliffs stretching heavenly. 
Movement of bodies was spotted soon
Atop the trees of the native spruce variety.
As far as friendly receptions go 
We received the most nobel of greetings:
As far as eyes could see
Scattered skulls and seared skin 
Was all that remained
Of us and your once solid ship. 
My Lords,  my Lords? To what purpose 
Is your silent response helping my cause? 
My Lords? Is my appearance not evidence 
Of this most worthy of telling. Am I too you
Not entirely visible.