Good Knight

Part Two

By H.J. Cruz

“C’mon mum, embellish me not

The thicker the weave gives a yarn rot.”

“Hold yer tongue lad, let memorie serve

Time’s pages wrinkle, clarity blurred.”

“Go yee the wood pile, the fire you’ll keep,

Dee’s ake’n bones are startin to creek.”

“I’ll tend to thee hearth, given the fee,

Keep to thy roots, me family tree.”

Thus once again the widow recounts;

Knight did awake and call for his mount.

“I’ll not forget my ladies kind heart,”

Then vulgar reports of a burp then a fart.

Beggin yer pardon, the ale t’was yeasty,

Time to press onward, bring aid to infantry.

He lept to his saddle; decorum of chivalry,

Felicity soured amidst flirt bitten chastity.

Could maiden kindly hand up thy lance?

Efforts now fumbled; onion eyed glance.

Weapon now tumbled rearward with thud,

Now lay betwixt horse hooves an mud.

Pa-pa now clamored to fetch a Knight stick,

But ornery nag stirred with lead footed kick.

The widow fell silent; aghast in gloom,

Ghost givith up wrought family tomb.

Now a melancholy maiden knoweth discontent,

Whilst the Good knight stayed on; languid lament.

Gallant his honor, shant let thee starve,

Duty postponed till fields be well carved.

Whence came a song of Brittany,

Fortnight of sorrow usurped thou opinion,

Whence came a sonnets epiphany,

Besieged Castle-less keep irony dominion.

I sought him not; behold a damsel in season,

Formality time forgot primed essence save reason.

Virginity held ransom till fields were sowed,

Restless was the Knight; Tristan slayed Isolde.

Early blooms/ early harvest; innocence shattered,

Quaking bed chamber, sacred ribbon in tatters.

A machine, a rapier, I screamed as was torn,

The galloping joust beckoned till morn.

Elysian Fields of inequity, feigned enchantment,

A farmer nigh, impaler; fecund seed implantment.

Golden was the bough, a sprig of mistletoe,

Good Knight now a sire, but he would never know!

To be continued…

Copyright

H.J. Cruz

3/08