Poetry Train Monday - 23 - The Red Joy at Last

The Red Joy at Last

On battlefields he'd watched it spray
Spattering cross his face
Slickening his hold on the
Pommel as he swung

His horse's hooves swirled the
Russet color of it
Sucking through mud and men's sodden hair
Floating facedown

The smell of it
Clings to his memory
Slime of a man
Swiped from his cheek

He'd seen this look before
Most often from a height
The solid weight of warhorse
Dearer than a lover


Now he steps close
Fear rich as lust
He hears the heart clench
Pulse like rain on his tongue

Shining terror turns
Blue eyes into torch flame
Lighting his way
To the feast

Fangs descend against lips
Curling back
Arms pull the trembling man close
Dearer than a lover



The night's battle looms
No sword for such as he
Could this man have been
A shield brother once?

His worth shines like gold
Twin points sink deep
He sighs as he tastes of
The red joy at last







Copyright - Julia Smith - October 28, 2007