Henry

Cold and clean in battle,
Though slim, he was strongest
Brooked no touch from others,
Gave as gifts his vanquished,
He would startle every foe
From the Garden to the Road.
Silent he was swift he was Henry

As he grew ever old,
The lion still within him,
Not so mean, nor so bold,
The hunter but resting,
We forced an orange terror
from our homeland together.
Bravest he was best he was Henry

From a longing to be held
In the night he would call
Shining cracks of its frame
Led him here to my door
He would curl upon my bed
Like the sleep of blessed death
Weary he was warm he was Henry

And now in his passing
He is in another's hall
Waits for me to join him
We shall meet in some war
Side by side we will fight
We will cut them down like mice
Mighty he was mine he was Henry