Knights lift their lances and charge enlivened by
the fight for fame or chance of lady’s favour.
At the heft of hooves pounding so heavily,
the crowds start crying, eager to crown a champion.
Baying for blood, like hounds they bite and snarl
at one and will the other to win with ease,
but, fickle friends, they switch to favour those
they believe most likely to end up leaving king!

We visited Warwick Castle today and enjoyed the dramatic sights and sounds of their jousting knights. A quick poem at the end of a long hot day.
(29.07.26)

© Ben Quant 2026