White knight

I’ve been secretly partial

to the realms of knights and dragons.

Forget the princess—

I’ve never been anything but another knight,

army counselor as confident as my name,

riding dragons instead of driving in the sword.

Raise your visor to meet my gaze,

two warriors walking the cherry blossom

forests leading to the columns and towers of stone,

a castle built into the very mountains,

humming with all the medieval magic of this lost age.

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Our bond is stronger than the blacksmith’s hammer,

the sword’s pummel,

king’s iron crown,

queen’s emerald gems.

Stride across the drawbridge with me—

the queen and king are waiting.

Royal white

I didn’t know the color white burned

like the color of sun, shined

like the brassy reflection of a knight’s shield.

Come, my queen, to the coronation.

Shoulder the crown like a sword,

head lifted like land to rain.

King and queen of this royal occasion,

bowing to the kingdom’s finest.

Other kings and queens with dominions

distant and near acknowledge our arrival,

but I’m eager to cross the swells,

drop the sails,

catch on the coattails of joy.