His hair fluttered in the wind,

Falling in ringlets onto strong shoulders,

Pale skin glimmered under the sun.

He locked his gaze with hers

Just for a second,

When the white stallion

Carried him past the cheering crowd.

For a fortnight she had waited

For this blissful second to come,

In which she forgot her dismal peasant life.

Many a year she had loved her knight –

Hers – just for one second

Every fortnight.