Poem for 11/16/01:

"The Noble Knight's Night of Chivalry??"

His armor on, first he don'd

O'er his portly chest it came

And into place; his hat

His helm, a noble white

Atop his rounded face.

His sword picked up from the table,

He crept forwards

(Quietly)

(Like a white shadow)

(With only his neck-scarf to give him away.)

He stalked towards the marble spotless ledge

Sword in hand, he placed the other upon his prey

(Slowly)

(He raised the sword)

(The air sung)

The small white form

Split in two

The thin green arms fell lifeless

The knight stopped

And scooped up the body without another word.

He wiped his eyes, for

A tear trickled down his supple cheek

At what he had done

He would not rest; they would have their sup;

O how sad it is, to make fresh onion soup!