The Last Knight

She but wrapped, tightly to branches strong
Damsel held pressed in the willow’s arms
And silver knight come to protect
Death of the tree by sword and axe

And where this savior, this knight of old
Doth sleep then know a willow grows
Across these lands, this journey so long
At every stop, a new weeping stand

Strong as a mast, when he was young
But life has worn, threadbare and thin
And arrogance replaced, an outlook once bright
The willow cries again, hope gone, dark night

What of tomorrow, new generations draw close
Who to save the damsels, journeys yet to come
I see no other in the wings, none waiting to continue
When this, the last silver knight of old

Has traveled his path to the end……

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 21st, 2007

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