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Warbard 1967 (Los Angeles)
Ride on warrior, ride afar,
However far it seems,
To search, and find, that maiden fair,
That calls you in your dream.
So days go by and seasons pass,
Through hardships great and small,
You travel on, and on you will,
On closer to her call.
The horse, he speeds on swiftly,
As the rider becomes weary,
So days grow long and nights grow short,
Your dreams grow vague and hard to sort.
Then off his mount, he passes out,
Then visions crowds his mind,
Of other times, in other lives,
And a rose he quest to find.
Then waking in a grove alone,
The callings stop, the urging’s gone,
Knows him now the time is near,
For the puzzling quest to him is clear.
Alone he’s not, for by his side,
The rose he sought was lying dead,
And he turned to meet her slayer’s face,
To see his dagger flowing red.
In an angered rage, he drew his blade,
He arose to face her killer,
But weak and weary, he found too late,
That the dagger was much quicker.
Then all goes black, he feels the ground,
And lies there by his sword,
In thought to one day find that rose,
And this oath did he swore.
The time is now, and here we stand,
And visions crowds my mind,
For once a warrior searched for thee,
And you, the rose I would quest to find.
Written on 1985
Submitted by Warbard on September 24, 2021
- 1:11 min read
- 5 Views
|Scheme||XXXX XAXA BBCC XDXD XXEE XFXF XGXG XXXX XDBD|
|Closest metre||Iambic tetrameter|
|Stanza Lengths||4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4|
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Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"Quest" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 26 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/110444/quest>.
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