Member Poem

A moat runs dry revealing secrets buried
those conquerors and conquered knights have known.
The past- a relic, bits and pieces carried
some seen in present life, some overgrown
by history's decor.  And at it's core
a castle built of wood and later stone.
We in the present beg to learn of more;
there's so much yet- we yearn for what's not shown.
It's set in time along the River Nore,
a shield of itself, medieval wear beside
a sword of truth.  The towers as before
lend greening views extending far and wide
where thoughts of chivalry like sunsets glow
in one's imaginings of great Strongbow.