Joan D'Arc

From out that valley of wild dispair
from amongst that tumultation
a great shout rent the air
not one of defeat,but exhultation.

For there was naught for sad dispair
in the glad realization,
that she had returned,she was there,
the savior of the nation.

She was there astride her horse,
riding to the fore,
and in a voice,both loud and coarse
She urged them onward as before.

And foreward they did march at last,
toward that distant castle wall
while arrows flew and armour clashed
and the trumpets loudly called.

Joan D'Arc that sainted warrior
did lead that final charge
though greviously wounded she did bleed
but suffered no umbrage.

For led as she,by the voice of God
her sight set upon holy angels
she had no fear of life,nor loves
entangles
and she did triumph there.

Amid the war waged by violent angry men
her shinning light did beam
an unspoiled virgin pure,of exqusite mien
she did indeed an angel seem,

to those rude warriors gathered on that plaine
to fight for God and King
for this alone it seemed,she was foreordained
and it was a miraculous thing.

She found favor among exhalted queens
this simple maiden of the fields
and she confounded judges,priest and kings
when they sought to do her ill,

and twas only by perverted justice and crookery
could they judge and finally say
in that trial of deciet and mockery
that Joan would be burned for heresy.

And upon that infamous fated day
they did tie her to the steak
and set the fire with which they say
her sainted life did take.

But Joan shall ever more remain
in all true frenchmens hearts
forever pure without a stain,
the one beloved,Saint Joan D'Arc.

Story ID:	3475
Written by:	Bobby O'neill Mitchum (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Poem
Location:	Phenix City Alabama U.S.A.
Year:	2008
Person:	self