Storm came from nowhere
Hope this won't ruin affair
Amber eyes so bright
Spring season mirror says right
I whisper being your knight
My dear, if we could meet again,
I’d want so much to recapture
the thrill you filled me with back then.
Oh, could we relive that dulcet rapture?
First, I’d gaze into your warm, brown eyes.
You could touch your eyelashes to mine.
I’d whisper: Trace me with your sighs.
Your breath upon my face, dear, I find divine.
Trail your fingers down the nape of my neck.
Butterfly your kisses with your susurration.
Let soft kisses linger, my darling from Quebec.
I want to tingle with anticipation.
Yes, trace me with your sighs, sweet explorer,
and with your caresses, murmur your delight.
Be for me my romance restorer.
Adore me as before, dear dreamy knight.
Upon a midnight battlefield, the Black Knight rides alone,
His armor shining silver bright, his heart as hard as stone.
A sword of ancient magic, clutched within his hand,
He fights with noble courage, for justice in the land.
The Avenger’s strength beside him, they battle all night,
Yet Black Knight’s honor guides him, his soul a beacon light.
From Camelot’s old legends, he carries proud his name,
Though shadows fall around him, his spirit stays the same.
Against the darkest villains, he stands with gallant grace,
A visor hides his secrets, his pain none dare to trace.
With every swing and parry, he turns the tide of fate,
Defending those who hope in him; their lives he’ll vindicate.
On steed of blackest velvet, he rushes to the fray,
The Avenger’s loyal comrade, he never shies away.
In tales of epic valor, his legend grows each year,
The Black Knight, ever steadfast, inspires hope not fear.
So raise a toast to heroes who fight in darkest night,
And honor the Avenger’s faithful, noble Black Knight.
His quest endures forever, his legacy will grow,
A shining star in Marvel’s sky, his courage e’er shows.
When the future starts to feel out of sight,
Just hold onto that which you know is right.
You are a beaming source of light,
The future plans to show you all your might.
Stand strong in the present, ready to fight,
For the past will come and go in the darkness of night.
But you are the future, a future so bright
You are the Knight ready for every past, present, and future fight.
You are the light that gives darkness no flight.
On morning's rise
A knight did ride
Into our side of town.
With his radiant stride,
And pearl armor which shined,
Our gaze was his golden crown.
He graced us with death-defying tales.
Of dark chasms he nearly fell.
And spoke of caves and coves,
The which, night's fiends surely hailed.
And in the midst of his vivid ballads,
He asked for some silver.
For his steed had suffered blindness
"From brutal war," he addressed
To any who'd lend their ear.
"Of course," we cried!
"Anything for a hero of mine!"
We gave him half our coin.
But it was only after he glided
Through noon's set did I realize:
That when he turned to wink goodbye
His horse had two full eyes.
In a dream I was a knight
made of flowers.
And on my tabard
where should rest the sigil
of a dead king
or heraldry of an unfeeling
God,
There is your face.
Silhouetted by your halo.
My errantry brings your grace
to fields afar that have seen
no hands more loving than
the plowman's
,who does the work
but not in love,
in hope
in foolish, romantic hope
that such reverence,
such courtly love
could make the plowman see
that there is love to be found
in the work
that there is something holy
in the deed.
That if I could be all that I am,
could not what he planted?
Because hands like tools planted me,
but it was loving hands that pulled me
from the earth.
A loving hand that twisted my stems
into arms,
that I could write these words
that tangled my roots
into legs,
that I could see what was beyond my field
that interwove my petals
into beating, bleeding poetry,
that I could shine the love breathed into me
back out.
The moon shines upon me
As I lay among the snow.
The coldness feels oddly comforting,
And no further would I like to go.
Dusk has never felt so long,
And my mind has never been so light.
The icy flakes cover me like a blanket,
Tonight, I am, but a weary knight.
The frost has frozen time itself,
For there is no sight of rush,no sight of haste,
And I'm certain that now, I can rest,
I'm certain, that now, I shall rest.
A lone knight slowly trudges across the snow-covered land
Shooting pain raced down his left arm, for nothing went as planned
Blood poured from a large gash on his leg that had expanded
Winning yet broken, he wished for a death that had felt grand
Approaching his stronghold, choking thick black smoke filled the air
Dancing across the Barbican were wild red orange flares
Realizing they marched not to war, but into a snare
Quickening his pace for there was not a moment to spare
Arriving to find nothing but death inside the fort’s walls
Wine colored land told of the violent fight for the fall
Fighting back tears, he wore each slain’s memory as a shawl
Vowing before God he will avenge the deaths of them all
Crashing loud noise informed the knight that he was not alone
Pushing aside the pain, he moved swiftly from stone to stone
Seeing his foe, drawing his sword, he soon would stand alone
Praying, he charged for the enemy’s woven fate was sewn
Through Darkness You Travel,
The Knight, who is carried by the Sun and Moon.
I reach my hand to touch yours,
Through the symbols and runes
I feel your Soul,
Projected from the depths of your Heart.
Suddenly, we hear the Dark One whisper;
The pain we feel in this abyss,
Shall awaken the Serpent
That sleeps in the Underworld.
I reach my hand to touch yours,
And ask you to walk with me,
Towards the Gates of Your black Kingdom.
As the Serpent Rises,
We proceed to the opening.
Hand in Hand we enter the Gates.
As we love and embrace,
Our Stars shine as Bright as Lucifer,
The Dark One once more whispers;
No need to seek, as it is Here!
Always been and will be.
Here! This Present Moment!
Damsel in distress seeking knight
Muffled cries resound from distant castle tower
~ haunting pleas on moonless night
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
Watch the leaves swim in the wind
As Autumn’s corners unfurl
And as we sail on
On the face of reflective waters
In our relationship
Just you and I now empty nesters
No one to pester us
(but we miss drinking from the scuttlebutt)
As we greet and kiss the morning
(And each other)
Now I'm her knight in white
And she's my bride in white
Now its just us twain
Reflections of when we first met
The spiritous sky rests in veils of light,
A mystery to show great courtesy.
In his heart, he's faithfully a Star's Knight,
Rooted in green, he lives life earnestly.
Behind the Elders, the moon casts backlight.
As rambunctious winds dance and go swirling,
This lone enchanter loves the fiery night,
Where ancient trees are eagerly curling.
He sees the Grove dressed in regality,
This solemn Knight with blue eyes mischievous,
Unbound from nature's own mortality,
Dancing in felicitous synthesis.
By dawn, no shadow dare interfere,
Lest, the night will reprise such Cavalier.
When and how
did we see chivalry last
or is it now
a thing of the past
and honour among thieves
is no honour at all
while beating my brains
against the wall
besting the dragons
at City Hall
am I wrong in thinking
it's my fight
or am I errant
as a roving knight
exhibiting gallantry
within a crowd
of apathy
indifferent
to the powers that be
outnumbered and outgunned
Sancho when needed oh where is he?
With apologies to Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547 – 1616)
The sun is high in the summer sky
And no clouds to be seen
The grass is high neath the summer sky
And growing tall and green
The mower starts with growling roar
And cuts through swaths of fescue
This mowing proves a sweaty chore
And soon I beg for rescue
My lawn’s expanse appears to grow
The longer that I labor
Seems to expand as I cut each row
The mower becomes my sabre
And I a true knight dueling a foe
Who laughs at my every advance
He stands unyielding before each blow
And about the green our martial dance
With never a sign of surrender
The fight goes on between us two
Which shall prove to be the pretender
Victory comes with the aim that’s true
And at last my foe lies low
Beneath the heel of the victor
Yet even now it grows
Who shall win next Saturday?
Sadly there is no predictor
Now a knight without a horse,
And his sword without a cause.
With the falling of his kind,
Shall there be truth, he can find?
With head slumped from all the pain,
Memories lost, no picture frame.
As he stood upon the mound,
With no fragments to be found.
Watching his world as it falls,
He screams out, as if he calls
For the pieces of his life,
Finding none without due strife.
This warrior full of war,
No sky left in which to soar.
He then sat beneath a tree,
Hoping death would set him free.
(7 syllables per line) (memories counted as 2)
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