Gawain, by Yvonne Aburrow
She came into my chamber, all green and gold.
I remember the scent of her beside me and her warm kisses.
It was snowing outside, but warm within the house.
She disarmed me of my courtesy with her cunning.
Each night as he returned from the chase,
I rendered to her lord all that she had given me -
All but this green girdle, woven with magic.
Three kisses I gave him, and he brought me venison.
I rode out under a pewter sky to the Green Chapel.
A wren darted among leaves of green holly.
The berries lay on the snow, shed blood on white linen.
I heard an axe being sharpened on a whetstone.
I am Gwalchmai, the Hawk of May
Belled and jessed by a green girdle.
He was the lord of winter, the Green Knight,
Who awaited me in the chapel perilous.
The axe was deflected by the girdle's magic,
But my honour was defeated in that moment.
I am Gawain, most courteous of knights,
Disarmed by the love of a lady green and gold.