Untitled Poem

A knight who rides on passing steed
With shining steel and noble deeds
The sum of my ambition,
A Cyclopean vision
And I, standing in the square
With peasant garb, both worn and fair
My only means: to dream and dare
Great fortune now takes hold of me
Swept up in thy fateful wake
A halo gleams - the Sun doth make
In glittering beams upon thy plate
I witness a reflection
Of Virtue's own conception

Now the light does stun me, blind me 
And no more words are found
A squire's wide-eyed, dreaming silence:
Knights of the Table Round.

This poem is dedicated to the staff of The Hearts Center Community.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *