For Sara of Stonely
At Eventide when last the day's hue glows
Laughter gently calls me from far afield.
No more weary, limbs forsake sweet repose
With spirits lift from loving smile she'll wield.
Neath eyes that like twin guiding stars that shine
Will I then find compass most firmly set;
Given purpose by love alone called mine
To take on noble pursuit with no regret.
In heart and soul is she my Sara queen.
Thus on tourney field I'll dance with pleasure
That all, as I, know she who trips the green
Her hand in mine, while plays happy measure.
And Fortunes fickle smile means but naught in this merry play.
So long as she call me hers at the end of each joy filled day.
- by Syr Cedric of Thanet