PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tis over a fortnight since he rode out
Laughing with his men and joking about.
For to his king he pledged his arm
To keep the people safe from harm.
To Northumberland he made his way
With his men at arms, a coup to stay.
Fighting there had been most fierce
Yet he went, the enemy to pierce.
Only once have I received word,
And no one else his progress heard.
So in anxiousness, I await
To see what becomes my knight's fate.
To our people, I show a smile
Yet my insides churn ere while.
I do not know how much I can bear...
Oh, if only my dear knight were here.
Then a cry comes from the tower gate;
I will not have long to wait.
For in the distance his colors fly
And his emblem raised to the sky.
My knight, at last, returns to me...
Nearing the gate for all to see.
Our people gather round his men;
I call for preparations to begin.
Then a small sound comes to me ear-
It grows in strength, and to my fear
Tis no shout of cheer or victor cry.
I rush from my chamber to see why.
And there entering the doors of the keep
His captain of guards...who begins to weep.
For in his arms he carries my knight
Whose lifeless body he holds tight.
My ladies about me to give me aide...
Now arrangements must be made...