Oh, dear one, so gentle and sweet, cherry blossom lips so fair,
With eyes shaded by the sun's heat, and your scent rich in the air.
Lions clash with fierce delight, while your tender face I see,
Amidst the chaos of their fight, soft skin gazes back at me.
I saw your smile fade, then a tilt so mild, you looked at King Francis with a nod,
He smiled at me, saying, "Lucky child," your glove seemed to speak, as if it were odd.
I furrowed my brows, wondering why, you glanced at the king once more,
A myth took hold, thoughts running high, too much for the court to endure.
I am Court de Lorge, steady and bold, should not worry or care,
But then I saw your glove unfold, thrown it in the lion's lair.
I got lost in thought and your eyes, could not figure except for a bow,
I ran to the pit with fears that rise, Oh, what have I done for love now?
Fear, yes, fear runs down my spine, is this love when danger is near?
I didn't look left or right in line, saw the red glove, vision clear.
Rage and anger down my spine, I thought I was yours, you were mine.
This isn't love as I defined, threw the glove at you, a goodbye sign.
The king stood up, "By God, well done," too raged to bow, I held my breath,
With heavy steps, the lesson spun, I learned to never go too far for love.
This poem tells the story of Count de Lorge from James Leigh Hunt's "The Glove and the Lion". I wanted to explore what drives someone to risk everything for love and pride. Through De Lorge's eyes, I examine the complexities of human emotions and the blurred lines between courage and recklessness
