A Knights Tale
The round table spins again;
now I am the favored Knight.
Yesterday I was the least,
children made sport of me,
scrawny curs snapped at my heels.
The Kings favor is fickle.
The Queen shades her eyes,
her demure down cast mien
a façade, a veil beneath which
simmers a flame we both have ignited.
Today I ride ahead of the throng,
my banner tall and straight.
Tomorrow is uncertain
the table will turn again
and I must creep into the queen
as wickedly as she will allow.
For what can be, may not happen,
and what may happen never be,
better to crack the circle,
take the Queen
and let the world spin on.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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