It doesn't make a lot of sense,
this celestial coincidence.
Compared to the sun's yellow ball,
the moon's commensurately close and small,
both taking equal space in the sky.
Poets, tell me the reason why.
Categories:
commensurately, moon, sky, sun,
Form: Rhyme
He heard a noise that foggy eve
and how his eyes, did deceive;
out in the lake, hovering there
a maiden with sword and golden hair.
Up to him, she did glide,
cutting through the foggy air;
and handed him a silver blade;
his immobility was unfair.
He couldn’t run,
he couldn’t hide,
his emotions came undone;
thought he was going to die!
And yet, he knew he couldn’t swing
that, lovely silver sword;
he stood sill, unyielding
and listened to her words.
I am a friend, I’ve come to help;
she spoke with such soft tongue.
To you, warrior, I give this gift;
your praises, will be sung.
With that, she dissipated
into that misty night;
His duty had been slated,
he defended home, that night.
Swinging the sword desperately,
he slaughtered many trolls.
Rewarded quite commensurately;
his story, for centuries, told.
Categories:
commensurately, adventure, confidence, courage, fantasy,
Form: Free verse