
| Towards the Dawn
Author: dooley creel a passage
Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry/Poetry - Words: 584 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 04-22-06 - id: 2159304
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Towards the Dawn:
--
Albeit drab this beggar clothed,
For flocks he must feign caring.
Once he was a paladin bold,
Now filthy rags he's wearing.
--
Was duty bound by vow and grace,
Still he donned this garb with rue.
False jester's ruse did he embrace,
Thus to fade from this world's view.
--
Upon this haunted heath to hide,
Himself and his horse and sword.
On downs amongst the ancient tombs,
Awaits his suzerain lord.
--
Far and long from his love and land,
With ghouls and spirits hiding.
He yearns to fetch the cobbled strand,
King's ship at anchor riding.
--
Now snow upon the barrow's gone,
'Mid grave mounds where he bided.
Of the king's ship there is word,
Sail and hull have been sighted.
--
The king's own banner from the mast,
O'er violent seas set flying.
Running down afore the blast,
Gales in the rigging, sighing.
--
Southward bound 'neath the sheer cliff's brow,
Through green seas, she tossed and dove.
If strake and keel hold firm she'll fetch,
The fey hidden, trysting cove.
--
Fierce vernal gale, with cold shrill blast,
Raced o'er heath, stone ridge and brae.
On barrow's height he stood his watch,
At the gloaming of this day.
--
Finally thus the signal sent,
O'er yon ridge three banners stream.
So long did wait was almost spent,
Stood there dazed as if in dream.
--
Though cold gust roused him to the call,
And he prepared for night's long ride.
Now that darkness soon would fall,
Mark the turning of the tide.
--
Against the red and sinking sun,
He doffed the jester's sham.
With haste flew down the greening slope,
For sword and shield he ran.
--
Within the ring of standing stones,
Were his horse, saddle and tack.
His hand again his broadsword owns,
And slings shield upon his back.
--
With haste he mounts his Frisian steed,
Standing in the stirrups high,
Wind sweeping past his helmless head,
Until king and thanes draw nigh.
--
Iron shod hooves with power bound,
'Neath a field of blazing stars,
So swift across the shieling pound
As to mark the sod with scars.
--
Dull sheep all from their slumber roused,
Who scatter then, fleet and spry.
Spied by just the wan moon's crescent
And the owl's hunting eye.
--
And even with the dawn rising,
And salt scent upon the gale,
He presses still his failing mount.
'Til in sight of the ship's furled sail.
--
Only then might come to canter,
And still ease once more to trot,
To halt and full obeisance make,
To cast, with king and thane, his lot.
--
Full ready to shun any crown,
Be it leaves, silver or gold,
Nor vie for seat at the king's right hand.
Bought not, would honor be, nor sold.
--
But when he o'er the last crest rose,
He did view along the strand,
Foes attacking the king and thanes.
So charged down his sword in hand.
--
With awful might he joined the fray,
Gave his brothers heart anew.
Well fought, he gave his king the day,
Though his comrades' deaths did rue.
--
The king's great need for him was plain,
He to northern realms would go,
And together challenge with force,
Scattered legions of the foe.
--
He grasped the task with all his heart,
Though knew it might speak his death,
He'd risk it all, would halt for naught,
Nor yield, while he still drew breath.
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