Crecy

Please know that this is the first part of a draft poem that I am writing. Again, if you see something in meter or phrasing, please let me know!

A tired, footsore, weary troop,

Did England have upon that night,

Who set their banner on the hill,

The one with Crécy-town in sight.

Th'English army had been chased

Across the land of France that day.

But now the time had come to turn,

To turn, and fight, in France to stay.

King Edward knew, from scouts abroad,

The French at Abbeville were stayed,

Who in the morn would move to fight,

So plans the king of England made.

The Valois king of France had been

Lacking plans for what to do.

"Attack" and "stay" the orders came,

But then reversed the whole night through.

The morn did dawn at Crécy-town

On English men awake and set, 

Who saw the sky of clouds so full,

Which forbode the battle to be wet.

Then came king and Prince of Wales,

Edward three with Edward four.

And though the lad was sixteen years,

He was here to fight this war.

For from France his mother came,

The kings her brothers were.

But they had died, and heiress all,

So who should reign, had right but her?

But England could not rule France,

And she to Edward had been wed,

And so the lords her cousin crowned,

Phillip Valois in her stead.

Now contested, Edward came

To claim the crown, twas his by right.

Back and forth the tide did turn,

And now to this, a desperate fight...

Valois - val-wah

Crécy - creh-say