Saturday, March 01, 2008

The Hateful Kinship



In clouds of dust and wheel-lock pistol smoke
Nine gallant cuirassiers did make their charge
Upon a line of lancers on a hill…
And time stood still
When out of the corner of his eye YOUNG PRINCE HARRY
(Forward Air Controller & 3rd in line of succession)
Recognized his own reddish, distorted face
Reflected in the smooth of his raised sabre/missile;
But stranger still,
Reflected also from the blade of his royal sabre
To the points of the heathen lances & back again,
So that every single piece of polished steel in that scorched desert
Shewed only the face of NOBLE PRINCE HARRY
And the line broke –

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