Poem -

I Fight For My Lady's Colours

I Fight For My Lady's Colours

I fight for my lady's colours,
In this savage cruel cauldron of woe.
I fight for my lady's honour,
In a macabre festival that is on show.

For age old tradition brings her here,
Her proud house so noble, honest and always true.
And I its undefeated loved champion,
Under our banner of crimson red and azure blue.

My opponent so arrogantly strides out,
He is huge, towering over seven foot tall.
No wave of morbid fear washes over me,
The taller they are the bloodier they'll fall.

I know of him and his accursed name,
Akrill! All innocents fear and dread.
A slayer of women, children and old folk,
On this day, will lose his evil head.

At the arena centre he smiles at me,
Hearing his supporters chanting his name.
I look deep into his dark eyes and decide,
To make him suffer first as part my game.

My lady drops her lace handkerchief,
From a balcony perched high above.
Our death duel at last commences!
One I will not lose, for her I truly love.

Akrill then throws sand in my face,
A dirty trick so overused and known.
As I expected and parry his lethal sword,
For I have a few tricks, of my own.

He's very good, of that there's no doubt,
But I have victored over equally skilled.
Hard battles in equally hard contests,
So many hard men I've fought and killed.

Again he rushes at me like bull from a gate,
So strong and powerful almost beyond belief.
But I will use his anger to my advantage,
Up close and personal to give him brutal grief.

We fight at length, fade then empty fade,
Thrust,counter thrust, blade against blade.
We never dare tire, we never dare falter.
Evenly matched? In this vast cruel altar.

We lunge, we pivot, our stances hold true,
But speed and stamina will see me through.
Iron against iron, blow and counter blow.
Block and parry, soon blood will flow.

Blood will soon flow and it will be mine,
In his other hand he now holds a dagger.
Another cheap trick as he smiles yet again,
Time now for me to end his smug swagger.

I drop my sword and he rushes upon me,
Then I fall like a stone quickly beneath him.
I rise like a serpent grabbing both his wrists,
He's shocked at my tight grip on each limb.

His dagger hand slowly moves to my face,
He's now thinking he has the better of me.
But I'm just teasingly guiding it there,
As it nicks with my blood that he can see.

Whilst his eyes widen with devilish delight,
And for a brief instant he relaxes his grip.
A fraction of time I make my deadly move,
As I fight on the edge of my brinkmanship.

I bend like a reed in the winter's wind,
Pivoting and turning all at the same times.
Twisting his held dagger deep into his eye,
He screams but hasn't yet paid for his crimes.

He drops his weapons as I pick up my blade,
Howling in agony as I cut off his sword hand.
Then his arm and I glare into his good eye,
A heartbeat, then his head falls to the sand.

I pick it up with his mouth ajar and he blinks,
Another moment  between us then he's no more.
My lady and all look upon me in stunned silence,
All chant my name on the victor they now adore.

I slowly walk out and hurl his hideous head away,
It lands among his supporters who all applaud me.
And I pass my lady's most trusted house magician,
Then he talks, as I listen, then I nod and agree.

In my lady's chambers filled with lace and finery,
On a bed she lies naked that makes my heart sing.
And my naked body now at last sweetly surrenders,
For my lady is my queen and tonight I am her king.

Dawn breaks and I leave, I destroy my sword as told,
Only Merlin observes me from a high watch-tower.
I wade into the lake, the misty waters ethereally part,
As the rising Lady of the Lake gifts to me Excalibur.
My name is Arthur!

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Comments

author
Gwendoline

Well Shaun I wasn’t anticipating King Arthur this morning. But wow this was a tense fight. You had the reader uncertain as to who would walk out alive. 

 I fall like a stone quickly beneath him.
I rise like a serpent grabbing both his wrists,
AND...I bend like a reed in the winter's wind,
Pivoting and turning all at the same times.

you captured the movements in this fight beautifully. I loved your choice of wording. It gave the reader perfect imagery and also a sense of pace to the movement. For example like that of a snake rising. 

A blood thirsty, gripping read. Yet again another fine example of your story telling.  
Fabulous :) 
Your friend Gwen 📌 ⭐️❤️ 

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