Sir Lancelot,
Your steed is not a stallion made for war;
But burning brightly,
Logos-charged, you lunge
With sword aimed sure;
All dragons damned, defeated
Through warfare of the Word.

Devotions, sermons, life of prayer--
Swathed in this armor pure,
Lancelot leads forth the saints
To conquer and endure.

Holy divine,
Shining one,
Lover of the Church,
Pray perfectly for us who fight the passions,
Still immured;
Enjoin us with thy spirit,
Pray our faith may be secured.

May we who love your legacy,
Who know your priestly part
Receive the shield of faith,
Aglow;
A single, fiery heart.

Copyright 2000 Cindy C. Lange