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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Just a small village girl in such a big world Feeding the animals in the quite fields Smiling and singing, laughing too Joan of Arcadia sang songs for you A Leader, a Martyr, a Warrior and Saint No military background a peasant girl quaint Hearing God’s voice on the call for her life A teenage girl drew sword by her side She disguised herself as a man Marched for eleven days as fast as she planned To meet the Dauphine the heir to the thrown To convince Him that she would fight for his own This time she was met with great success And an army was given the military best The hundred year war between England and France Would soon be led by the Saviour of France At the tender young age of only seventeen Joan would soon fulfil all her dreams The Maid of Orleans’ by which she was known Led France to victory and put Charles on the thrown Now Joan of Arc was very smart With armour and white horse, she battled till last She fought the Burgundians and English at Orleans And the whole of France stood proud like a team But conspirators were mounting, her power too great We will get rid of her and deal her, her faint And Charles did send her on a bogus mission Where she was captured and commissioned The Burgundies keeping her for several months No word from her King, she had goose bumps Torturing her and questioning her on many things They wanted a signed confession of sin That the voices she heard were that of demons When actually they were Saints that were beaming They became furious when they couldn’t catch her out Her humility and skill made heaven stand proud Joan became tired and they got their result Seventy charges they would invoke One of those charges not to dress like a man And Joan would be imprisoned for the rest of her span The English weren’t happy with the French court And set up a way so she broke an oath They left her armour in her cell Fore well knowing she would rebel She broke their rule of wearing her armour And they handed her over to the Church Fathers She was tried for witch craft and heresy At the age of nineteen burnt at the stake There’s never been such hero of France Joan was defiant at her last dance Her spirit remained strong beneath those flames But the people did cry you fools are insane What a vicious assault on a beautiful life Her murderers would soon see her great light © Copyright KC.Leake 14th September 2015 All Rights Reserved
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