He rests in peaceful slumber, my knight,
but his armor does not shine.
The tiny ringlets cast no cool glow as
morning light streams down upon his pillow.

I creep to him quietly.
My footsteps make no sound on the stone.
I bend over him, my lips touching his for a brief moment.

With an innocent kiss, I make my wish,
and stepping back, I wait for my miracle,
but my knight does not stir.

In repose forever, his sword at his side,
his limestone features await his chance to pray.
His eyes always look for God.