Lets trade our swords for roses and surrender into each others arms, sending lust-filled battle cries into the night.

A quick poetic thought based around the idea of lovers being on opposing teams. I've been hooked on the BBC series The White Queen recently (more specifically the relationship between Anne Neville and Richard iii). The Tudor period is one that has always fascinated me and the divide between the Lancastrian side and York side is such a strong divide that if two people on opposing sides they would have to put their feelings aside.

Soldiers Of The Sea

Laughter Fragile as a dream
Its temporary song be heard
As passers-by sing with the wind
The sorrow of the bird

Games may trace this summers edge
Be tainted by the fall
While the sea birds sing their waltzing song
And dance upon the wall

For how the sand turns with the tide
Forgotten by the seas
Rolling o're lambent waves
Sorrowful yet at ease

These tides may pull our heart strings tight
And tease at bibelot dreams
But in my soul our dream still sings
For your love gave me wings

Upon the shore his heart did lie
And buried on the land
Still to this day his song sings true
The melody of the sand

Inspired by the song Watercolours by English folk band Salt Water Thief  specifically the chorus "Because i'm made of watercoulors and I will die, it a brush in my hand you in my mind" 
the poem (to me) explores the life of a sailor who leaves his true love on the shore while he goes out to sea, she keeps up her hopes that he will return and they will live their dreams together, but sadly the story takes a turn for the worst and his life is taken by the sea leaving his childhood sweetheart alone. 
I wanted to expore rhyming patturns in this poem and although I didn't stick to a strict pattern, I enjoyed the challenge of the rhyme. 

Honour

A badge of pride tis honour
Who chose you?
Be it the coward in the corner
Trembling with fear
Hath he no honour?
Or that cold blooded killer
With the smirk across his cheeks
And the blade between his claws
Hath he no honour either?

To judge and to be judged 
You have no right
But hath you the right
To love and to be loved  
For who you are
Yes
For you are honour 

Wear it upon your sleeve 
Across your heart
And in your head
Pray it never leaves
And he will never leave

A poem inspired by Falstaff's monologue during act 5 scene 1 of the Shakespeare play Henry IV (Part 1) the monologue reads 
"Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. ‘Tis insensible, then. Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so ends my catechism."

During his monologue the lovable coward Falstaff explores the idea of honour and what it is, for he is not an honourable solider and cowers at the thought of battle. In my response I debate who it is who chooses whether we wear the metaphorical badge of honour and what the meaning of the word is.