He wears a cloak of night
Despite his elbows bright

They flash a vivid red
By them, love is led

She is demure in brown
Stripped is her gown

A mother through and through
To her clutch she’s true

Song of silver notes
In the air, it floats

Then of shrill intent
On defence, it’s bent

A knight in crimson ash
Not afraid to clash

His own he will protect
Demanding all respect

Red-Winged Bird in black
I’ll heed your swift attack

This marsh is where you’ve grown
Amid the reeds, you make a throne

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020