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@cieloceano.bsky.social Sep 20, 2026, 12:57 AM

@sonnetsmith.bsky.social
#beech
#WildWalkPrompt
#prompt #writesky #blueskypoets #writingprompt #nature #5amwritersclub
#Villanelle #LiteraryPoetry #PoeticImagination

The Disinherited Knight

Imagine: the whistle of words in the ancient, as voice,
when silence as a mantle embraced our songs,
and hearing your heart was the tangible choice.

Beneath the beech tree our swords shall rejoice:
I’ll ride to the lady where my oath now belongs.
Imagine: the whistle of words in the ancient, as voice.

The day we shall name the wind’s whispers as noise,
our tongues will have cast thorns of reason through wrongs;
and hearing your heart was the tangible choice.

I sail on this draft, where sand waves rejoice;
my horse is of paper, its lengthy condition prolongs—
imagine: the whistle of words in the ancient as voice.

There is no time left among peers but invoice:
our time is now sold in worn leather thongs;
and hearing your heart was the tangible choice.

The kings of this age have speeches of poise—
their manners are scrapers of wood made old toys.
Imagine: the whistle of words in the ancient, as voice,
and hearing your heart was the tangible choice.

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