Arthurian Poems 11

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Poems (10)

Poems (12)

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A Day Without Knights

by Myself

Imagine a world where Knights were no more,
And Maidens were left on their own?
And the land was ruled by a tyrant instead;
A madman without a crown.

Honour had gone, friendship no more,
And corruption swarmed over the land.
Decency now was a thing of the past,
An ill Shadow was gripping the hand.

The King had been vanquished, the Queen sent away,
That Table made good firewood.
The people have none to fight for their cause,
And would turn back the clock if they could.

Back to the time when Knights were still there,
And Decency covered the land.
When people still felt safe in their homes,
With the King's guiding their hand.

Spirits Of The Dead

by Myself

The knight lay dying upon the ground,
He knew his time had come.
No more new day,
Little else to say,
His loss would be felt by some.

A maiden came from the empty air,
And spoke softly to the knight.
"Come with me,
And you will see
All the treasures of your sight."

Behind her were a group of men,
Transparent in their shade.
Their souls held mourn,
Their clothing torn,
Whose bodies had been flayed.

"Give your soul to me." the maiden said,
"And you shall see the Grail,
What you've sought for all these years,
Looked for with anguish and many tears,
But always went on to fail."

"What manner of creature art thou?"
The knight struggled up to say,
"Are these poor men
Other victims, then,
Who you visited on their dying day?"

A bright light then shone nearby,
And the maiden sorely looked afraid.
She gave angry sighs,
And covered her eyes,
As her figure began to fade.

As the light dimmed, a new maiden came,
Then gently held his hand.
All draped in white,
An Angelic sight,
Like an oasis on the land.

"No riches I will take you to,
Just the peace that is your goal."
The knight knew at that time,
As he heard faint bells chime,
And gladly gave his soul.

Truces

by Michael Burch

Artur took Cabal, his hound,
and Carwennan, his knife,
   and his sword forged of Vulcan,
   and Merlyn his falcon,
and, saying goodbye to his sons and his wife,
he strode to theTable Rounde.

"Here is my spear, Rhongomyniad,
and here is Wygar that I wear,
   and ready for war,
   an oath I forswore
to fight for all that is righteous and fair
from Wales to the towers of Gilead."

But none could be found to contest him,
for Lancelot had slewn them forsooth,
so he hastened back home, for to rest him,
till his wife made him patch up the roof.