Camelot

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sat, 14 Mar 2015
  • 4467 reads
12 comments
 
All around the Lake of Sighs
rippling fields of wheat and rye;
where once an island, fair, did lie –
an island known as Camelot.
 
Yet, listen as the skylark flies,
ever singing as it climbs –
a song that tells of days gone by
and the fabled land of Camelot.
 
No man can vouch that this is so,
but speak, it does, of long ago –
of lovers and the boat they rowed
to the distant shores of Camelot.
 
And there he picked her meadow flowers
to weave his love a vetchling crown,
then, each to each, made solemn vow
to come back, one day, to Camelot.
 
For hours they rolled in pastures green
to fall asleep – to share a dream
that he was king and she, his queen
of the place that they called  Camelot.
 
The moon it rose – the hour was late
for love, of time, no heed does take,
and demons danced upon the lake 
as they bade  farewell to Camelot.
 
Clouds glowered red in rag-torn skies...
a sudden  squall –  their boat capsized,
and lovers, both, were lost from sight
as the sun went down on Camelot.
 
The water in the lake grew still;
cut through the mist, as darkness fell,
the hollow tolling of a bell
wafting down from Camelot.
 
A hermit – Merlin, there did dwell,
who had the power to break the spell,
and end the curse, so stories tell,
that Satan wrought on Camelot.
 
Sunlight pierces silken shroud –
dawn’s first light melts morning cloud,
a pair of swans rise, homeward bound,
from the lake that cradles Camelot.
 
And as they fly the waters rise,
consuming Merlin’s castle, high,
who, climbs a hilltop, says goodbye
to an island, once, his Camelot.
 
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Romance
Fantasy
Love
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by celticman on

Lady of Shalott or Camelot. Your poems does praise and to some feeble eyes like mine amaze. It's a wonderous thing when you take worlds for a spin. Praise be. Praise thee. 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hallelujah!  'Thanks be to God for dappled things, and for celticmen',  in the style of Gerard Manley Hopkins.  In other words, ta, sport.smiley

 

Submitted by tibi popovici on

I like the solitary touch you gave to this poem, Tina. Nice!

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Indebted, tibi.  Many thanks.

Tina

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

So evocative, wonderfully romantic.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Pleased you thought it so, Philip.  This one's been a long time in the writing, and I feel, that only now, I may be getting somewhere. Thank you.

Tina

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

A lovely rrworking and some beautiful images.

Lindy

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

You noticed, Lindysmiley  As I was just saying to Philip, I've been trying to perfect this for an awfully long time.  It has much history...as do we all, I guess.  At long last I might have just nailed it, but then, I get to thinking is a poem, or a story, ever really finished?  Probably not. Writing evolves as everthing else does.  Well, that's my philosophy at least...for what it's worth.

Many thanks for sharing your thoughts, and for your powers of observation.  Much appreciated.

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Tina,

I certainly remember this poem, it meant a lot the first time I read, now it means even more.

It's a poem that evokes the mystery, passion and magic, that is part of our history and should never be forgotten like your beautifully written piece.

Very...very much enjoyed reading.

Jenny.  smiley

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Jenny - I guess it was with you in mind I decided to tackle this rewrite.  Thank you for being my inspirationsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

Dont know how much closer you want to get it, Tina but it's the best philosophy to have and it feels refined to every word. A wonderful piece.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Suffice to say, 'thank you', Vera, very much.

Tina