The Joust


A tournament meant to determine the mettle
Of two men of metal determined to settle
A feud for the fair-haired who'd so far eluded.
Brooded the both, and so shrewdly concluded:
A tournament held in the hearts of men!
One bore the crest of a red-breasted wren;
Doll for the other, treating as toys
The women of wonder he woos with his ploys.
Lances are leveled, a lass cries aloud,
Lamenting, "Alas!" but is lost in the crowd.
Her kerchief's commitment, kind, cool as a cloud-
To vanquish this vagrant with valiance vowed.
We charged and created a sure-fire shroud
(A view of the victor it'd not yet endowed).
So suddenly, then, did the smoke start to clear.
The wisp of a tail and the tip of a spear
Did appear. Toward your tier did I humbly steer
As the mob leapt in unison, never a cheer
Such was heard. Just a word I would say to you, dear:
"My love is a fire that cannot be doused,
I, the knight; you, the lass; this is the joust."

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