Destined for a Poem

[pri2des]

 ::)Destined

He came over, but the courtyards were still,
Lying low looking over the sills.
Musket proud in his hands it stood.
Not a stir or a cry from the woods.
His magnificent stature
Caught in a rapture.
Standing so bold
Out in the cold.
With a hurdy cyclone
All alone.