[Soaring Feather]

My valiant knight
they furrowed brow
tells stories not spoken
but hangs heavy as your cloak
hanging from slumping shoulders
war worn, tired from bloody battle

of clashing blades, slashing swords,
yet holding forth a stalwart posture
of honor while bent from battle
on this night-come
my knight to maiden's chambers
tower high away from the clamor
to the midnight hour of magic moments

Lay thy bloodied beaten head
upon the softness of my bed
and lay in peace 'til the cock doth crow
then off to battle thou must go

White Knight honor to uphold
bravely striding before the fold
leading your company to victory
and bestow your world with fealty...

bentfeather

[Old Sarge]

So many more deeds to do,
so much more road to take,
how much longer must this road
lead me to your side, for your sake?

The armor is bulky, which saves my hide,
chafing and scraping my bones and my pride;
my livery soiled and torn with the trail,
moving from dust and dirt into trial.

My steed, my partner of wars beyond count,
a tired knight never had a wearier mount,
but he will bear me, without complaint,
all in silence and al lin restraint,

as I share my frugal meal with him,
bread and water, for vigor and vim
for the manor is just beyond the next rise,
when I see the stars of your eyes.