Brandish Thine Sword Poem by John W. McEwers

Liverpool, England
Land of Queens!
Valiant knights
On illustrious steeds!
Away to battle
Maidens behind!
O'er rolling fields
A dragon to find!
Daily rations
Running low!
Time to hunt
Arrow and bow!
In the dark of night
As I lie asleep
A slight rustle heard
A posse of thieves!
Unmoving, awake,
I wait for the horde
The voice cries within
'Brandish thine sword! '
Slicing dicing
Stabbing and thrust!
A life I doth take
A skull I doth crush!
In pools of failed life
I search for reward
Gold coins and jewels
A glorious score!
Thence to my dear England
Victorious I return
Until the next time
Adventure doth burn!