A boon I’d ask of Sir Galahad or Gawain in a pinch
am I the Green Knight of yore that poets know
to rhyme, I could not like mother’s other
children be for that was not my
destiny if indeed they’re such
a thing, my cat beneath my
feet quite unconcerned
sheds hair and merrily
plays with string
forever more
in small
doses
only
can
it take
affection
do not tarry
long with her
unless you want
a bite or a scratch
in return for your attention
tonight a wizard comes to relieve
us of all doubts about the magic of
this place that we have earned in the
dragons heart so let the games begin again
and you will live to tell the tale another day if the
oracle was right when you came round begging at my
door in the middle of the night and I was fool enough to
let you in and wipe out all memory of your sins once more
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