I’m not quite a knight, but I’m learning the trade, I carry his shield and help with his blade. I polish his armor till it shines in the light, Who am I, standing next to a knight?

John and Paul and George and such, teeming throngs dearly want to touch.

I sound like sweetness, a pet name; I was a scourge, stoker of war's flame.

Take a common measure of milk, add an ‘e’. Sailed after stolen on the seven seas.

I sought for a friend in a world full of fear, But my face brings a scream whenever I’m near. With a spark and a stitch, I rose from the clay, A giant in shadow who just wants to stay.