White: c x d3
Whirling Knight, why comest thou into our fortress ring?
Perhaps you wish an audience with our most stately King?
Pardon me, for obviously, thou art a man of rank,
But for a guest, you're quite a mess, with muddied hooves and flank!
Come down here and I will have a bath for thee prepared,
and send your sword off to our smith and have it's hilt repaired.
There you see, the water's hot, and you can cleanse each speck,
My gallant friend, at poems end, I wring your filthy neck!
No comments:
Post a Comment