The questing beast

The questing beast roams
’Cross the countryside seeking
Knights to fight and kill.

Flying overhead the black beast
Quests for knights riding below.

Then swooping down from
The cloudy firmament it,
Lashes with its feet.

Eagle-like talons lashing
Faces of knights from above.

A broadsword is drawn
As a brave knight is fighting,
For his very life.

Cutting, thrusting, parrying
The knight slashes with his blade.

Brought to ground by sword
The beast lowers its foul head,
Readying to charge.

The sword dropped, the lance now drawn
The knight prepares for jousting.

Steed and beast charging
Across the grassy field where,
Only one may pass.

Yellowy horns lunging at
The white knight’s steel-tipped lance.

One yellow horn lost
Yet the knight’s lance is broken,
Still the beast comes on.

And soon the knight’s steed is felled
And the man is now on foot.

Drawing his broadsword
The brave knight must now battle,
The beast at close range.

The brave knight soon falls beneath
The foul beast’s constant charging.

The questing beast roams
Across the breadth of Britain
Seeking out lone knights.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia