My Champion~

Although thou hast found me in the hall, I had sat in my chamber for a time contemplating thy arrival.  It was my wish to meet thee at the gates adorned not in some gown of color, but more so in these my vestments of metal.  Nay.  I seek not to war with thee.  What my idea represents is the war that has waged within due to my waiting.  What courage it took for me to stay chaste for thee and only thee.  Aye!  Temptation poked its head in every door, slid out of every nook and cranny, and did speak in whispers while passing my ear yet I held fast.

Prepare thee now for the battle or arts Sir.  Term not my phrase in derogatory fashion as we have battled before without so much as a blister.  I beg to request thy championship of dialogue. Come now and stimulate me with all that you are.  May your whispers and words tickle me with delight not so in the way of the sexual, but more so in the intellectual.  Do come stimulate me with conversations that light and delight me with your fire: the fire that shalt not stop in the confines of the hall, but burst forward also to burn in our bed.  Aye to burn!  Here are the blisters!  The blisters we make in the burrow of our bed or that which is made upon the carpets are happy adornments to our knees and feet.  What makes thee of that which we speak when colors find not the palate to be respectively drawn?  Respectively speaking, to create what illustrations which cannot be wall hung, however, hang so lovingly in our passing of time.  Illusions and delusions some might say.  Am I left to care?  I think not.  Yet thinking I do.  I rest not so on the mundane aspects of that which surrounds us, but more so for which the possibilities are endless.  Do start kind Sir as my breastplate lays heavy upon my chest. ~ Maggie ~ November 11, 2010 @ 5:58 p.m. EST