By THLaird Colyne Stewart, June AS 50 (2015)
So sturdy, strong, a trunk my thew, sweet leg,
That takes me into battle’s brutal fray,
Encased in leather, and secured with peg,
And moves me into shieldwall ‘fore my prey.
At marshal’s call my line does fast advance,
A foe-man bold assaults against our might,
My shield-mate, vig’rous, clad in steel and brass,
Doth swing a mighty stroke with broken lance,
Misses foe-man, I feel sharp edge bite,
And find my lost leg lying in the grass.
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