The Samurai Warrior

My Samurai warrior is framed in the doorway,
his attitude says: we will do it your way, not my way,
how nice if someone really thought that way today,
instead of always 'mine,' at the end of every day.

He would take that curved sword, slice a sun's ray,
offer me his heart, say a prayer before we went to play;
those feudal times may be gone but my Lord has his say,
then he took me to Japan between keeping foes at bay.

We walked thro' trails of cherry blossom as it lay,
reminded me of ancestry, his was still evident today,
honour would be defended, there was no choice anyway,
it had to be done, protect me through times of decay.

It was good to feel that he'd be with me, come what may,
there was no one, not one dragon, that he couldn't slay.