Medieval Prose by sirpeterjames.com
Along the trail of wilderness wandered I ,my heart did cry, who am, I who am I?
Yet no reply, no reply came to my reporte. Yet did the wind call in its flight yonder.
Is this the voice I seek, the voice of my thoughtse? Nay, surely not; the wind is but a knave seeking willful sporte.
On a fayre day, that bold knight, Sir Peter James, did journey to the lands end in his trusty carriage, the Bee-Em-Thrubble-Ewe, with six trusty steeds at the fore.
He rode with his layde, The Layde Scarlett, Princess of all Albertinshire.
That bold knight did leane over to his layde as she slumbered to the rythyme of the swayeing carriage. He whispered to her eayr, ‘My Layde, my love for thee is indeed greatere that that of my lyfe, sleep on and rest thy soul”.
A Poem By SirPeterJamesdotcom.
Dedicated to his love, the Ladye Scarlett, a virtuous Woman.
(with extracts from Proverbs 31:10 – KJV).
Come Forth, my Knight in Shining Armour
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Ode in honor of all those who war with demons of substance addiction to rescue their fellow humans, before these seek the solace of their own deaths.