He sits atop his castle wall
To observe his lowly serfs
And demands of them by word and deed
His lordship to observe
He imagines that his mind is great
A brilliant, shining light
Ore shading all the serfs who dwell
In the shadow of his might
He is a giant, in his own eyes
But all around him know
He altered when good fortune came
His arrogance, great, did grow
His proud position, suits him not
His prowess sadly lacks
And, somewhere deep within his mind
He abhors this well known fact
He rightly fears the day, perhaps
His ineptness comes to light
So, conjured aspersions, he doth cast
On any serf in sight
In truth, a viper, his lordship be
A perfidious, scheming churl
Who thrives from work of better men
This knave of the watery world
Copyright C R Clark-4/09/2008
A medievel feeling here in this write. Wonderful storyline and a pleasure to read. Much enjoyed. Thanks. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem and story of this knave of the watery world, a pleasure to read this tale! Best regards, Friend Thad *10*! !