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The Bout

Poem by: DandelionFields

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Summary

This describes my first big fencing fight. Needless to say I lost badly, but it was rather transformative. Essentially in the moment of fear of failure I lost all inhibitations and gave it my all.

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Submitted: October 10, 2012

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Content

Submitted: October 10, 2012

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Swash sweep of crisp breeches,

Patient tones as he teaches,

Mumble glare of the lights,

Is she ready for the fight?

 

Flick flutter of a salute,

Nervous adjustment of a boot,

He claps his hands like thunder,

The battle is now assunder...!

 

Tingle tangle of the blade,

Slices of victories made,

Armies of suited ghosts,

Haunting the clouded doubt most...

 

Crumble crack of the armour,

But no hit will harm her,

Fencing builds a wooden fence,

Naked from all pretence.

 

(DandelionFields)


© Copyright 2016 DandelionFields. All rights reserved.

The Bout

Status: Finished

Genre: Sports

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Sports

Houses:

Tags

Summary

This describes my first big fencing fight. Needless to say I lost badly, but it was rather transformative. Essentially in the moment of fear of failure I lost all inhibitations and gave it my all.

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