October 2nd, 2009

Arms

A sonnet

Throughout the nineteen realms is cast a pall,
In shires and barons' lands a grievous wail.
All noble hearts break at Kolfinna's fall.
Three weeks ago she was so strong and hail.
Though Fortune's Wheel did spread our homes by miles
And kept our joyous meetings' number few,
I treasure each encounter's happy smiles
And thank the Fates I knew a Peer so true.
But she was one who ran life as a race.
With vigor did she seek the newest task
It was not hers to stick to laggard's pace
Sweet kindness was her core, not venal mask.

We mourn the warrior, cut down in her prime,
But know she made the best of too-short time.