My champion dons his armor, his bright sword in his hand
To battle called, he leaves me now, though by him I would stand
A throne he seeks to win this day, my favor on his sleeve
My love and both our honors, a shield for him will weave
My champion strides onto the field full charged with skill and might
He faces now his noble foe, his heart filled with delight
His praises and my love for him I’ll sing as best I may
To honor him who’d honor me, who’d make me Queen this day
My champion worships virtue and skill above all things
And this my comfort, I will wait and see what nightfall brings
And if he win or if he lose it plays but little part
For I know that to my champion, I’m queen of all his heart.
"Invocation, June Crown, XXXVII." -- Ivone Pons Leyr
Copyright ©2002 Yvonne K. Reynolds
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