Sir Dinadan, Percival and Gwain

No knight shines.
Smoke, steel, and salt
Ashen earth and littered lines
Hour to hour, and only time to time

The knight rests
And such a moment merely tests
Resolve undaunting
Tasks impossible

Yet to wrest
Any justice from this world
And mouth but a single courtesy
Reduce any shade from haunting

One of the table supporting
Shedding blood in worthiness
Service, or love
Alone, not slaved to pretty lies
To fairweather air and false cause

But for devotion and the notion of
The higher calls
Brothers, Lovers, Mothers
Friends and folk and flags and there
The little house, or place or land
Honour to others and one’s self

Beaten silver and dented steel



All the best,

J.W.H Hobbs

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