Tis now the time, the joust is nigh,

My armour strong and bright,

I wear the colours of the king,

To face yon noble knight,

Yon fearsome knight has ne’er been felled,

Nor once has lost his seat,

I gave my pledge unto my liege,

This day he’ll taste defeat,

Fair maiden sits to right of king,

With favour and with charm,

She beckons me and ties with pride,

Her favour to my arm,

I mount my steed and raise my arm,

To display her favour proud,

So all can see, she cheers for me,

As I ride through the crowd,

Out in the distance I can see,

My foe so proudly sits,

Upon his steed, in armour strong,

A lance clasped in his fist,

I turn my steed toward my king,

My lance dropped in salute,

Yon maiden fair blows me a kiss,

Her love not in dispute,

I turn again to face my foe,

The joust must soon begin,

Tis for the hand and honour,

Of fair maiden I must win,

For tis no game we tally here,

This joust ends at the death,

Fair maiden will be married to,

Whichever knight is left,

I spur my steed towards the foe,

He spurs his steed to mine,

Tis no time now to feel the fear,

But strength of heart and mind,

My lance point shatters on his shield,

He rocks but doesn’t fall,

His lance twas aimed toward my horse,

Hast he no shame at all,

My valet stands with lance prepared,

This time with metal tip,

I hold it firm beneath my arm,

It’s base poised on my hip,

With level lance I charge again,

We meet with such a force,

His lance point takes me by surprise,

Unseats me from my horse,

I look to see he’s also down,

My lance point found its mark,

With mace and chain he comes to me,

His armour strong and dark,

With broadsword poised above my head,

My shield absorbs his blow,

How many times I can withstand,

Such force I do not know,

With savage blow of flattened blade,

I strike his shoulder plate,

With force enough to knock him down,

His anger now is great,

As chivalry demands of me,

I stave my final blow,

T’would bring dishonour to my name,

To strike a fallen foe,

But from the ground he spins around,

His mace aimed at my feet,

I feel the pain of breaking bone,

As mace and ankle meet,

His cowards’ blow has turned the tide,

I now lay on the field,

Whilst he stands hence with mace aloft,

Commanding me to yield,

To whisper yield unto my foe,

Would surely save my life,

But where is the point in living,

If fair maiden is his wife,

I hold my tongue, though I must die,

She’ll know my love remains,

The last thing that my eyes behold,

Is a falling mace and chain.

By S.E.Ralph

12-12-2001