This is a poem from my book Arthur, the sequel to Lancelot... News to come as to the date it will be out.
In the last dregs of winter
In the forest there was no sound
Just a recently thawed creek
And a hart, taking a drink
Legs sinking
Into the mud freshly soft
The white hart, a beautiful wild beast
Caught the eye, of Arthur’s party
As they set to hunt about the vast grounds
Of Camelot’s lay
As the hart darted away there wasn’t a sound
The hart leapt all obstacles
So graceful and lithe
It moved without effort
So beautiful it escaped time
So many desired in the party
Deigned to be with the king
His company was genuine and kind
He was a joyful companion
As were those with him
But he alone spurred his charger to action
And gave chase into the wood
The hart was quicker than fast
But nonetheless it could move
Agile and without sound
Unlike the war horse hooves
Arthur spied the hart
And for a moment notched an arrow
But unlike for so many prey
He set down his bow
So rare did he see such a creature
Perfect but for its presence here
Upon the earth
A single tear trickled down
And he rode from the hart
Wondering for his courage
But knowing deep within
It was no sin to have compassion
For the innocent
