Wallaces Warrior Poem by karen sinclair

Wallaces Warrior



Early mornings crisp cool sun illuminates the enemies Armour
His stallions breaths jars the air with snorts of deep anticipation
Thoughts race between victory, defeat, life and finality of death
Survive,
Thrive
The moment is nigh
Heart beat strong
Mind race fast
Remember everything
Forget nothing
Flags pushed by a forceful wind whip his nerves of excitement

Silence

The warrior scream
The surge is as waves eroding the shore of bounteous green
Thunderous thighs pound beneath quivering forelocks
Cool air exhaled rushes past and is left
Past tense
Breath

Eyes to the left
Raging eyes pierce from pale blue paint as scarlet screams
The thunder rolls, swords glisten as enticing Sirens
Contact, a force filled clash of wills and minds plus strength
Clashing swords, ideas beliefs blood plus guts and gore
Dust is kicked and raises past falling victims
Thuds as spuds in sacks
(Land)
Is what it all is for
Face down awkward or upon the broken backs

No time to realise that one who falls is he
Who thought and fought with all his will for all his life
And now just leave him be...

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Danny Draper 27 August 2012

I still like this poem and Wallace. A symbol of defiance against overwhelming adversity. I am not kind to monarchy as I believe them all to be descended from belligerent thugs. Democracy for all it's faults is less prone to entitlement and more towards merit. I must also convey this pun that has entered my mind just to earth it an get rid of it: Wallace had dreams for all of his life, but none included his head on a pike. Good stuff Deeksie.

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Knight Fizzstorm 27 August 2012

A rousing joust of jest! Lady Sinclair. I actually lost the duel but my loyal scribe, Clavicus, rewrote the ending. Now I appear to have been eaten by wolves! I fear I may be getting a little on in years for these dangerous adventures. But pon my chest, still stuck there you know, a boon.

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