She stands upon the castle tower,
long ebon locks caught by a playful wind.
Green eyes gaze across the court yard,
at the first fingers of dawn touching the horizon.
She espies two small clouds of dust,
one from the east and the other from the west,
growing larger as they draw near the castle.
Even now she can see her two suitors approach.
One ,wearing all black,a void
stealing all the light ,
as a thief might take the rays of the sun.
She smiles ,and the other,
Dressed in the purest silver,
agleam in the suns rays.
The Black Knight will ask for her hand.
He will stay out with the boys at the pub drinking,
then wenching,beat her,and never treat her as a lady.
The Silver Knight will ask for her hand.
He will hold open doors for her,
bring flowers to her,show kindness,
and treat her like a princess.
Once again she smiles ,
this is no decision.
She will choose her Silver prince,
to be treated as a lady ,as any woman would wish.
She runs to the stairs leading down,her last thoughts
why would any woman not wish to be treated as a lady?
Why would any man mistreat one of God's greatest gifts?
Where have the days of chivalry gone.