I’m girding my loins for the war that’s begun <br />It won’t be a bloody war. <br />Just one in fun. <br /> <br />I’ve picked up my sword; it’s a tad rusty <br />But believe you me <br />It’s ever so trusty. <br /> <br />I’d be the Queen’s champion, <br />If I had a Queen. <br />But until I do, I can always dream. <br /> <br />My armour, it’s battered; a little like me <br />But I’ll fly my flag proudly, <br />For the enemy to see. <br /> <br />My horse is a donkey, but he doesn't know it. <br />He’s covered in padding, <br />So he doesn’t show it. <br /> <br />I need someone now, help me into my saddle <br />In the old days I could do it, <br />With a jump and a straddle. <br /> <br />But now I’m aboard, beware all you foe. <br />Because from here on in <br />You have nowhere to go. <br /> <br />So stand your ground, let battle commence <br />For those with no stomach <br />They can sit on the fence. <br /> <br />I hear the drums drumming, the air it is thrumming <br />It’s hells own legions, <br />It’s the enemy coming<br /><br />Brian Joseph Dickenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/knight-of-old/
