Squires Poems | Examples

No Bling for the King

The King stepped up and set his goal.
Screamed, "Things must change or heads will roll."
Wide-eyed council plead, please prepare!
No grain is left and our coffer's bare.

As I fear we must, though I do abhor.
"Guards! Squires! Knights!...Now, prepare for WAR!"
With dreams of battle and gallant deeds,
They all stepped up and mounted steeds.

They raised their swords and stormed the castle,
But, the King declared, "S'not worth the hassle."
They turned and fled, tho thought him bonkered.
With no riches left, his Kingdom's conquered.

Legends

Of Kings and Queens and magic rings

Sorcerers and Dragons

Of Knights and Squires and midnight fires

Wines from kegs and flagons

Of battles won beneath the sun

For castles in the sand

The mystery of history 

Sparks the legends of this land

Legends of the Past

On the battleground where evil fell
That spread throughout both hill and dale
Are the whispered tales of swords and slings
And the legend of a thousand kings

White knights and squires on armored horse
Who bravely chose to stay the course
Thus plunging headlong into death
To conquer foes and dragon's breath

Dark wizards and their minions vast
With bloody shields the stain was cast
Through countless lives and many tears
The battle waged a thousand years

Though king after king kept falling
Still valiant souls there kept calling
Who rose up from both slum and manor
To stand and fight under one banner

It came beneath the setting sun
At last a mighty king had won
And what was heard when all was said
Were the echoed voices of the dead

A thousand years or maybe more
Stands a hallowed monument of war
Their victory no sword could sever
The legend now lives on forever

Endless Melody

Our sounds are a glamorous ode poem
Like a spiral of blooms in appearance.
Blithe beaming beaches and a balmy hum.
Our sounds are a beautiful ode poem
Closeness has hit a fever pitch; show some
Beyond rhapsody wild squires are fearless. 
Our sounds are a beautiful ode poem
Like a spiral of blooms in appearance.

Written: February 17, 2023

Diaspora Link

That Diaspora represent a piece of my identity,
Strewed my views on the squires of taciturnity,
Inconspicuous lines and depictions,
And then there's the pencil wizard,
Follow my body's rhythms, that I used to bury,
A meandering deer in the tangle of conscience,
I interred it in the depths of my gentle soul,
He was doused in letter ink,
I interfered with him in some proper link,
The beater is nipped by a beehive,
Following the poke scores another shove,
Silence and no ardour, to mitigate brain's fury,
An ink would be dainty, to soothe mind's rage,
The gap was scared, so he squeezed a sunrise,
Swollen and grown, with that slammer,
Reluctantly urge her to endow what she's realized,
I swore an oath of ultimate devotion.
Her moral sins were washed by the Lord.
You didn't hook sight of her fastening orbs.
Twilight's deeper level starts eagerly with a rally.

Written: February 20, 2022

The Grand Staircase

The ceiling lowers a chandelier’s glow,
A suspended drizzle of glass fireflies.
Marble tiers like a sharp-edged ruffle,
Scaled by lissome feet in buffed leather shod.
As jewels’ shine with sequins’ luster vies,
And pomade’s glints with brilliantine's scuffle,
A beauty to make all womanhood blush,
Ascends the stairs, and with her all eyes rise.
Silk gown’s long train trailing e’er so graceful,
A teardrop’s upflow that brings down a hush;
Young squires turn faithful.

Day In the Life of a Late Summer Day

Sleep.. indigo’s eyes, night loving allies,
Sol’s flare is stars' disguise dawn till dusk’s reprise,
peach awe-inspired skies effuse juice sunrise,
east, grapefruit pink lies - lemon slice rhapsodize.
Pastel wash replies to Zephyrus sighs,
morning glory highs yield to afternoon’s surprise..

wings golden butterfly's, squires sun clockwise,
ruddy west implies cocktail hour’s devise,
sunlight’s demise creeps in blueberry dyes,
plum, mango fraternize as prim-rose chastise.
Sunset complies sending signal-light fireflies,
Wake! indigo’s eyes, night loving allies,
tantalize poets to romanticize.



Susan Ashley 
August 17, 2017


~ First Place ~
Contest: Your Best Monorhyme
Sponsor: William Kekaula

Rhymes checked at (RY) rhymer.com

Stephanus Marcus 5

Stephanus Marcus Book I
Canto I
Verses 8 and 9

Swords, bucklers, "apparatus belli" seen,
all shields escutheoned by their family sign.
Pass gate, across bridged moat, on road called Queen,
ranks coursed their way toward Broughton Place of pine.
Impedimenta came last most in line
with youthful squires and pikemen, archers bold.
Because of rain on cold food they would dine;
they'd eat at Lystrom Creek wet knights were told.
Such running stream was fine marked resting place of old.

Stephanus' squire pitched knight's tent by swift creek,
all battle weapons dried of rain and teamed
with pennant high on stave for those who seek
the Sire of Playston Manor oaken beamed.
Man's shield was blazon leopard gold it seemed
to rise from sea of azure bright as sky.
Round buckler gold against the stave was deemed
to be the grandest shield of those near by.
It leaned against the pole and told of valor high.

Conku In Progress

The Beheading of Thomas

Let the clowns play on heathens dirt floors
With the rabble and unwashed masses

The Squires shall reside above
With men at arms and knights of superior glove

Allegiances to kings and royal courts
Let the bishops sort out the cohorts

Be deceived not by those with no letters
Saying they are poets for the better

They worship their own idol minds
While the wise ones seek out their own kind

Seekers who only find battle
Silent ones who preach with loud voices

Forewarning to the masses
You have better choices, forget their pretentious classes

Walk among the islands grazing sheep
Contemplation rewards the humble and meek

Trumps Rubies may shine today
Under rubble I assure you

They shall be one day

P,J,S

Poor Jeremy Squires.

Jeremy Squires a strange wee breed
would cough and sneeze all day indeed.
So Marjorie Proctor sent for the doctor.
She asked that he come real quick.
Before Jeremy Squires and his coughing expires
then he'll no-longer be sick!

Well, said the doctor, if I don't come quick
and Jeremy Squires is no-longer sick
he won't need a doctor Marjorie Proctor.
Is that what you've just said?
Yes! Said she, oh don't you see
cause Jeremy Squires will be dead.

Forgotten Deeds

FORGOTTEN DEEDS
by

JOHN M. ARRIBAS




Colin P. Kelly, John Basilone
Two Good Men That Should Be Known
They’re Now a Part of Our Ancestry
Now Fading into the Pages of History
Audie L. Murphy, Jonathan Wainwright
They’re Framed Images Now out of Sight
Kenneth N. Walker, George B. Turner,
John C. Squires, Curtis S. Shoup,
Joe P. Martinez, William K. Nakamura,
Manuel Perez,.Jr.,Donald Kirby Ross
Names Now Forgotten as Time Slips
Absorbed by the Sea like the Wake of a Ship
Who Were These Men What Did They Do ?
The Answer:  Left Solely to You

Cockroaches

Oh the goddam cockroaches!
Like living aliens from 50’s movies: 
and in my house!

Where do they live, these errant knights? 
In search of food, and greasy squires, as 
they scurry across the  kitchen’s night.

One’s without a leg, a skirmish with a skink?
And two just stare at each other; lovers, or
two males looking for a fight?

It’s hard to tell which is which and what is 
what, amid the morning heat; but I live in
hope, that  they’ll migrate, one day across 
the field; to the rich man’s house, that looks 
so neat, and share upon his wealth.

Paupers Grave

Verily I say unto thee,
The subjects of kings are not free.
They answer to all the king’s court.
Submitting a yearly report.

If rulers own part of thy time,
With a tax on every dime,
Then thy freedom and liberty
Is a fallacious fantasy!

Canst thou even speak to thy kings?
Nay! Thou must speak to underlings!
Not to bishops, but to friars.
Not to knights, but only squires.

Thou art the pawns upon the board,
The playthings of the royal ward,
The cattle that fill their coffers,
Begging the crumbs their king offers.

Thou art the sons of slavery,
And the daughters of apathy.
And those who fought with bravery,
Must yield to thy complacency!

It is better to fight and die,
Than let fear cause thee to comply
With those who wouldst make thee their slave,
‘Til ye rest in thy pauper’s grave.

The Other Holmes

Dear Doyle,



Why have you not incorporated me further into your work?
When I found out I appeared briefly, in just three stories, I was hurt.
You made me smarter than Sherlock himself,
but, alas, you did not find me worth the ink.
And no, my dear friend, no simple explanation will suffice.
We are both men Arthur, let's not beat around the bush like mice
You'll meet me tonight, eight o'clock sharp at the Reigate Squires.
Do not send a wire or put it off a moment further. This business is dire!

Sincerely,



The Other Holmes



NOTE: For those who aren't familiar with the stories, Sherlock Holmes actually has a brother. His name is Mycroft Holmes (and Doyle actually made him much smarter than Sherlock... though Mycroft was too lazy to put his talents to good use). He was a very interesting character and I was sad to see him in so few stories...

The Royal the Regal Vs the Poet's Own Realm

Of 
splendid 
thrones of 
gold
Of 
treasures 
manifold

Of Sultans 
and Shahs
Of Emirs 
and Rajahs

Of 
jewelled 
caskets
or lavish 
banquets

Of 
sparkling 
crowns
and 
flowing 
gowns

Of kings 
and queens
Rulers and 
emperors

Of their 
subservient 
stewards 
and 
obedient 
butlers
Or the 
servile 
knaves 
and 
stalwart 
squires

Of the 
peons and 
minions
pages and 
pavilions

Of castles 
and palaces
of 
abounding 
gold and 
silver
in 
ostentatious 
regal 
splendour

Ah the 
fanning 
maids in 
waiting
Yet to me 
one thing 
worth 
more 
noticing
The poet 
minstrels 
who came 
to sing
from afar 
for the 
queen and 
king

For I'd 
rather be a 
poet for 
kings
so to my 
tunes 
swayed 
the 
kingdom
than I be 
the king 
of mere 
subjects
and be filled with regal 
boredom!

So I could join ranks of 
troubadours
and sing for the king 
some folklores


For words are the heart of imagination
Inviting to poetic fascination.
(form Troubadour) Ars poetica

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