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Morgan D'Avella Mar 2018
She stands in the shadows of misery
Deluded in the presence of mastery
Scared of her strength, she holds to pleasantries
Faced with the darkness like it’s her destiny
She stands in the cold shaking, but feeling free
Nobody’s coat to stay warm, but she isn’t looking for chivalry
“The readiness to help the weakly”
For she is the strongest girl known
She stands in the forest all alone
Her body frozen in the rigid past
But her mind free at last
Insane, insane what follows old
This tragedy you're about to be told.
Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
It is love that we most of all bequeath.
Amongst green pastures grows a flowering field
One not tainted by what this life yields.
Somewhere in the withered forget-me-knots
It lives long enough to be what it ought.
A shining prince upon a silver steed
Riding home to find that which was decreed.
Nothing more than just a thought
Of something born here in Camelot.

Oh mastery of misery art thou my friend?
Do we have so much to gather or defend?
Send us upon this grievous plain
To battle for all that must be regained.
Oh ported soul of Arthur’s gallant lot
Send to us the dear Sir Lancelot.
He be the bravest of all hearts,
His bravery known right from the start.
He hast no legend braved in fear
Doing the right by his lady Guinevere.
Life deals us such a broken art
Of a finger painted love here in Camelot.

The quest be of ill fated charms
Where love survives the coat of arms.
To be so brave is to be a slave
Fighting for the thing we crave.
For no coat of arms can delay
Love’s onslaught once on display.
For to pour the grail back into the flask
Would be to hold love as a captured task.
For ‘tis love that captures all at last
And nothing loved can truly pass.
Though the lance laid silent Lover Lancelot
His secret survives him here in Camelot.
Always liked the Sir Lancelot stories. I hope I did him justice
Scarlet M Jan 2018
My knight does not need to be
in a shining armor,
nor blessed with prestige
or countless honor.

It only needs to be you,
someone who could wield
a sword, respectable enough
to be able to strike a heart of gold.
This piece was inspired by Heathe Ledger's movie "A Knights Tale" thus from where I took the title. I loved the film so much I made a poem out of Jocelyn's love for William. One of my favorite lines from the film was when Jocelyn wouldn't tell William his name and he said, "perhaps Angels don't have names, but only pretty faces".
Charleigh Huston Sep 2017
Chivalry prevails all,
On this mired moonlit mascarade;
None may avoid its shadow,
None evade its pride.

Charity it ensures, of pride,
May channel it's empathy;
Through bells - Silver bells!
Carried with stride!
Precious Jem Aug 2017
Date a man...
Who will pursue you
With sincerest intentions
Who value relationships

Be with a man...
With a vision
Who thinks intelligently
Without selfish ambitions

Marry a man...
Whose heart are set on God
Who fear Him with reverence
Who know the price of a beloved
“I think I must be incapable in properly saying
That which honors the concern you show me.”
With that she placed her hand in his and in her
Best broken French she continued….
“Marcherez-vous avec moi avalez-vous mon chemin?”
(Will you walk with me my way?)
He replies, “Naturellement fe veux mon cher.”
(Naturally I will my dear.)

There is a time when a virtuous convention,
Once created betwixt a woman and a man,
Sanctifies even those most private of walks.
This walk being as it was – in the dusk of the evening
Had within it their roads laid out the same way.
Hand in hand in a shared silence both of them
Admiring the sky’s crimson closing.
With a small tribute to such as this toward virtue
He felt her cold fingers clutch together in his and
Just then she broke the daunting silence asking,
“La beauteu ciel est-elle suelement vue par ceux
qui choisissent de la partager?”
(Is the sky’s beauty only seen to those who choose to share it?)
His answer, “ Pas plus que l’amour, moncher. Pour garder
de lui est juste comme imutile. – Quel but est-il eoins
qui ‘il soit partage.”
(No more than love - for the keeping of it is just as useless.
Of what possible purpose is it unless it is shared?)

She seemed much affected with what he had said giving it a low sigh.
He was incapable of inquiring after the sigh so
He said nothing more ‘til they came to the corner of
Tomorrows' Road and Yesterdays' Pass.
That was where they were to part today.
Waiting for the path to clear he asked, “Est-ce
Que je dois vous server le reste de la mania?”
(Shall I attend you the rest of the way?)
She replied first with a look to his hand
And then to his eyes, “Pas du tout, monsieur.
Vous pouvez cependant me server toute la manua.”
(Not at all, sir. You may however attend me all the way.)

With this he seemed to loose his French verbs for a time
And it was not until they were steadfast alone in her
Bungalo that any French returned.
Yet the French that returned said not a single word.
She was most capable though the question
She answered was never asked.
If he had to have asked he would have asked,
“Cue ferai-je avec vous ?
Devrais-je vous aimer de tout mon cœur ?
Je crois que dans la route que nous prenons,
il cause l'intersection d'entre nous..”

Only the little French in her knows…..
Writing to me is about showing myself when and where it is proper to speak for "my characters"and when to speak in the first person. Here - using a narrative - I let the characters play their roles while giving them a first person feel. Is this a true story or is it just a story? Does it matter? No it doesn't because the point was settled between the characters leading the way.
Scarlet Keiller Feb 2017
There's something about the way he holds the
door open, something about his strange, straying
eyes, which scare me. Maybe it's the charm within
them, the blonde boy acknowledging my existence
without ever hearing the heartbeat which
goes with my name. Maybe it's the lost boy
who left her behind and is now paying
me the same regard, looking at me with
a kindness all too familiar and
an eagerness so unwillingly accepted.
~~ For the anonymous boy who looks my way. ~~
Elijah Rose Feb 2017
The knight & dragon fought.
both never yielding.
spewing fire,
tails clashing.

Fierce is the battle,
but she is of-course fair.

"this chivalrous battle is quite grand, In honor of my heart have you two crossed. but to your dismay, a poet has crossed my path and my heart has his word pierced."
The end.
- Elijah Rose ©
They say;
"Behind every good man, 
is a great woman."

But, I must digress. 

I mean, I should probably confess. 

I guess,
what I'm tryin' to profess, 
is that - I wholeheartedly disagree.

I have to take a stand. 
If it's "love" that's in demand, 
then I'ma speak out - candidly. 

Now, I can't speak for every man. 
We're not all the same. 
Contrary to what most believe.

I let them do them,
'n you do you,
while I do lil' ol' me. 
(all six foot three)

With all that said..

Behind every good man, 
with a chivalrous plan, 
I believe should be; 

The shadow - of said Man..
proudly holding the hand
of a beautiful silhouette
standin' side by side - equally. 

By my side - is where she should be. 

Not ahead. 
Never behind. 

Until I'm dead
that's where you'll find..
My better half. 

The one that makes me laugh. 
Laugh so hard - I cry. 

The one, around whom, I can act like myself..
'n noone else..
'n neva have to try..
t'be like ANY other guy. 

'cause she loves me - for ME. 

Now, THAT'S a "ride, or die".

That's the whole reason why,
I asked her to be - my Wife. 

She's the love - of my life. 

I know. 
I know. 

The word LOVE has become so cliché, 
'n there's only so many words
that we can use - to describe it. 

..and here I am, 
NOTE II - in hand, 
tryin' to find a witty way - to contrive it.

If our love is a drug, 
I've become so above 'n beyond addicted,
that I'd beg a Dr - to continuously prescribe it. 

Not that you'll ever need to be reminded.

You already know, 
when you need unconditional love, 
right where you can find it. "

-rome ©2016
Charleigh Huston Nov 2015
Thou I did ALWAYS love,
I bring thee proof!
So the forces above -
May never turn aloof.

Always I speak to thee,
That love is life -
Forevermore that shall be,
Even when we find strife.

The swan's song may always sing,
And thou will forever feel dignity -
But thy honor is what terror may bring,
For men know not of chivalry.
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