Dawn peeks through mist and trees,
squires before their knights on their knees,
banners limp in the listless air,
as off in the distance, trumpets blare.
Clatter of armor as men-at-arms march,
the sun eeks through and throats become parched,
hoarse voices cry out as battle is joined
and a new song by the minstrels is coined.
Early morn her Ladyship awakens
cool morning air drifts through the tower window
clears her mind, but thoughts of clamor and slashing blades
ring in her ears — she touches her brow
her long slender fingers brush away stray
flaxen colored hairs from her face.
She stands tall and lean
but the sadness of his death has gathered around her eyes
a permanent state of grief, yet a determined jaw line hard as steel not as a loser, but a winner
he took a sword for her honor to save.
There had been so much pain
their love was not meant for this world.
Their earthly life was spent preparing for
the other world of golden Paths and mossy cool meadows.
Their planet is Round Honey Comb.