Member-only story
The Knight of the Long Night
Satisfying satire.
Between the dusk and dawn
Deep in the long night
Up north here in the Arctic
The night has no light.
Inside the polar circles
The darkness is complete
For months the long night stretches
Hibernation and deep sleep.
Analogies are everywhere
Depending on where I go
Let’s consider the long knights, Sir Lust a Lot
And others that I know.
Riding high up on his stallion
He rode around in medieval times
And visited fair maidens
And put on banquets with fine wines.
He had a reputation
The menfolk despised
Of the women going, gaga
When the Long Knight appeared disguised.
Like the long night in the Arctic
The winter nights were numbered
Sir Lust a Lot had his way
While the menfolk slumbered.
One long night, they set a trap for him
To end his medieval ways
And caught him with his pants down
And put his strides ablaze.
The last time they saw Sir Lust a Lot
He was on the run
Perched on his blazing saddles
Riding, towards the midnight sun.
©
David Rudder
2024