For a moment he is not
In the battle, but with her
He raises his lance
She hands him her kerchief
He places it next to his heart
Knowing he has only a chance
Just a chance
He rides back to the field
She waves and walks away
He raises his shield
She knows the longer she
Leaves him on the field
The greater the chance
She will lose him to the battle
But she leaves him there anyway
When he falls onto the field
Another tends to his wounds
And tries to make him strong
She knows she should be there
She knows it is wrong
She grows angry at him
For falling and feeling his wounds
He touches the kerchief next to his heart
Knowing he has only a chance
Just a chance
She knows the longer she
Leaves him on the field
The greater the chance
She will lose him to the battle
But she leaves him there anyway

© 1997 Tim D. Coulter Sr.