A gentle knight, to win a lady’s hand,
Made his bid, boldly took a stand.
His sword once wielded fiercely in the darkness,
Succumbed to his lady’s touch of softness.
Instead of giving counsel to his king,
The sweet smell of arousal enchanted him.
While outside a battle raged on through the night,
His mind was filled with sensual delight.
This warrior who knew each battle by heart,
Was no match for a gentle lady’s art.
A fighter who struck his boldest enemies dead,
Now lay enraptured in his lady’s bed,
For medieval woman has her wiles;
Gentle touch of silk, secret smiles.
As the enemy set the castle all afire,
The knight was tossed on oceans of desire,
Embracing her and all her sweet perfection,
Embroiled all the while in love’s deception.
Her cheeks were warm and flushed by his touches,
In his eyes she lay there like a Duchess.
Her gentle purse of tantalising silk,
Ached for his burst of scalded milk.
With fire through the castle raging mad,
The knight gave his lady everything he had.
As they reached for heaven, gentle arms entwined,
The eyes of the brave knight now were blind,
And with veiled screams at night their song was sung,
As he engulfed her with his honeyed tongue.
When he slowly drew out from his lady’s glove,
She looked at him with dewy eyes of love.
Her face once seemed so charming and beguiling,
Sent shivers down his spine now with her smiling.
Outside the castle walls had then been taken,
The king and all his knights were now forsaken.
The ultimate sacrifice made for her lover,
As she lay in the strong arms of another.