For Joe. Sometimes, you've got to give your muse a shove to get things started.

The Lady in the Lake

I'm toying with The Lady in the Lake, a supple
Metaphor, my Arthur against her as J. She rose,
Done up in brilliant white, her pale and lovely
Face emerging slowly from the placid water.
Beckoned? I don't think she did, but she, still
Far off from the shore, held up the sword,
Excalibur, which was (this is a metaphor)
The symbol of her love for me. She seemed
To offer me the sword, but moved no closer
To the shore. I found a dory in the rushes,
Rowed so quickly as I could to reach her.
She remained in place, and, soon, my hands
Received the blade. She smiled, but never
Said a word. Do creatures from beneath
The water possess that ability? I do not
Know. I didn't care. I dropped the sword,
And wrapped my arms around her, kissed
Her purple lips. Her milky eyes looked into
Mine. Then, with a wan look, she drew back,
And turned and sank into the lake. I rowed
To shore and waited there until the sun was gone.
I waited two more days before I gave up,
Hurling Excalibur toward the place where she
Had been. I hadn't any use for it. What good
Is someone's love if she's no longer near?

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 94 times
Written on 2019-09-10 at 15:56

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Having suckled on Arthurian legend and lore, this brings to life so much, what with the excellent intermingling with your own art and thought. The last lines solidly hold the poem into the after-reading. Brilliant!