poems6

Beware the forest of Broceliande,
Where the hopes of mortals die.
The lure to the soul,
Is overwhelming and whole,
For it's where darkness will always lie.

The temptations it offers are endless,
Right up to Man's utmost desire.
Women, power and gold,
Even more, so I'm told,
But the cost is unimaginably higher.

On the borders one can hear the voices,
"In here's what you seek."
"Come hither through the trees."
"Ride forth with the breeze."
"Don't let your spirit be weak."

Darkness comes in many forms,
More than an absence of the light.
This is a forest with no way out,
Even with 'Help' at the highest shout,
Broceliande, of the Eternal Night.

"It is not the sword,
but the man,"
    said Merlyn.
    But the people demanded a sign.
The sword of Macsen Wledig,
Caladbolg, the "lightning-shard."

"It is not the sword,
but the words men follow."
    Still he set it in the stone-
    Caladvwlch, the sword of kings,
   and many a man did strive,
and swore.

and many a man did moan.
But none could budge it from the stone.

"It is not the sword
or the strength,"
     said Merlyn
     "that makes a man a king,
   but the truth and the conviction
he sews with every word."

"It is not the sword,"
   said Merlyn
     all the while marveling
      as Artur drew forth Caliburn
    with never a gasp,
with never a word,
and so became their king.

The Grail is what we look for,
And will always want to seek;
The source of all our longing,
Of the strong and of the meek.

Knights go for long years,
In search of the Holy Grail;
Away from their homeland,
Via land or there by sail.

If only they knew,
What they most adore;
It's there where they left from,
The woman they last saw.

For their wives whom they've left,
Are the treasure they seek;
And the company they'll miss,
For many a week.

No woman to hold,
And make love to at night;
As they seek the Grail,
With no end yet in sight.