Jerusalem
Seems so long ago
From desert heat to French cool
Pain in my shoulder in the damp
Rain coming down soaking me
Saracen lance bit into me
Staining blood red over red cross
Wound showing on white tabard
Gone from Holy City to French village
Hunting Saracen to hunting outcasts
Proud banner limply flies over me
Red Cross on a field of white
Stories told of a woman here
A pox to god fearing people
An evil done with word and gesture
Crops failing, cows dry and children wailing
Sent to bring her before the bishop's justice
Villagers follow, seeking a glimpse
Returned hero, Church's watchdog
My oath the church to serve,
The holy Land to protect
Where is the Holy Land here
A hovel found, abandoned
Sparse furnishings tossed
Warm coals yet in hearth
She has left, gone where
Jerusalem
I want to return to you
Holy Land, how I miss you
Red Cross on field of white
Honor and protection
Pride of right, God's sword arm on earth
Hunting women, yet what of Saracens
Following stories, not tracking men
The villagers scream I that I seek her out
Pain on my face from Saracen's scar
A spell against me cry the people
She seeks to stop me, the Sorciere.

Absolutely stunning Karma...it flows well with Sorciere

Methinks we're at it again MiLady Poet.

Absolutely superb Karma.Your writeing just pulls the reader headlong
forward directly onto the very path of the tale.Thx!for sharing
bro.Godspeed!Cybear.
p.s.Yep!me knows certainly ur back at it,& I'm luving it.

Great time,,,and still great times to come
man...
Welcome back on THIS page,,,missed ya man...

And keep them words a flowing,brother...

brings a tear to the eye...
beautiful and full of pain...
what has the world come to???
Amazing Karma...just amazing!