Thomas

Dear Thomas of my lineage and first clan,
I care that you find peace in that cyan-scape.
You took fear with you like how gran wrote it.
The shield and spear was like pan and moulin
To those at the rear, nan said she would watch,
Amen to your plan, cheer at our become.
Your sons would man up and dare the big Sun,
I know bran grew with the brown deer you said.
Kinsman of my father, please declare words
Ban the sour feet that won’t rest on the chair.

Ruddapoet