Grace

If your gaze were but a book
Such intricacies would speak a look
And power behind that loving stare
Would whisk me away from tedious care
Of that mundane uninspired everyday
Enticing me to cavort and play
In the idolized light of your grace —
For where you dwell is Eden’s place

Athena

O’er the hill he rides his steed
To memory’s eternity
Years past the deed
The children still whisper of his face
The lance, the chariot, the fearsome mace
The mysterious knight
Against the fading light
The dragons slayed
And the grateful maids
Send shivers of pleasure when again told
Those bygone chivalric tales of old
Yet sunset spells a specious cast
It was her, not his name, that should last.