Lancelot to Guinevere
Dewy fields and sweet fragrant morning air
feign innocence before battle
where across the verdant landscape
march ignoble knights to bring peril.
Who could guess that a thousand swords
could rage against Camelot and not
bend the will of her king,
but our kiss, if known, could shatter
the invincible foundation.
I feel these gentle winds
supple through my armor
and hear the gentle rumble
of steeds bringing thunder,
this moment is, for me, tranquility.
But when I close my eyes
I can still taste you in my mouth
pouring down my throat,
warming me with a pleasure no
victory ever brought.
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