A Midsummer Nights Dream
One Midsummers Night, I took my rowan staff
And walked across the hills in the sundown dark.
The sky was velvet black, the land was vivid green -
And when I turned for home, I saw the Faery-Queen.
Surrounded by her Seelie Court, arrayed in silver and in white.
Lovely as the hawk on high, fine and free and feather-light.
Her gown was of soft gossamer, her steed was elven-bred.
A wreath of fragrant elderflowers crowned her royal head.
Then suddenly she turned to me, in my daze of wondrous dread
And in a voice of silver bells she laughed and then she said:
Come away, come stay with me, forget your mortal woe.
Live among the faery folk, from care and fear let go.
Come dance across the open sea and swim across the endless sky.
Ride upon the rushing winds and hear the timeless mountains sigh.
Listen to an oak trees tale then chase a shining star.
Taste a liquid moonbeam wine as you set free your heart.
Fly with falcons far and wide and roam with deer in forest glens.
Hunt nightly with the cold grey wolf or play until the worlds all end.
Her voice wove a compelling spell but I knew I could not stay.
I raised my rowan talisman and slowly walked away.
The Queen just laughed in merriment; continued on her course.
Melted into the misty gloom atop her prancing horse.
Now as I sit beside the hearth, I close my eyes and dream
Of if I had said yes to her - and how it would have been.
Lady Nimue
|
Lissom-limbed and light she ran,
Across the grass into the trees.
Her raven hair teased all around her,
Coal-black feathers in the breeze.
The dragging fingers of the oaks
Made ribbons of her green silk dress.
A silver circlet graced her brow
And grass stains were her shoes.
Her eager eyes like shards of night
Fixed solely on her lovers face,
She raced toward his shadowed form
And into his embrace.
Druids of the god-lit path,
Wisest of women and of men.
Gave up their lives and more besides
For that one night, much too soon spent.
Forbidden was the love they felt,
Until their task was done and through.
Yet they ignored the Gods threat
And so were they subdued.
For a thousand years and half again,
He would sleep and dream of she.
Her features condemning, imploring, crying,
Her lovely form just out of reach.
Accursed with immortality,
To do her duty trapped and free.
She would wait alone for the High King
To find him for her once again.
But the greatest irony of the curse
Was the casting of the spell of sleep.
She would weave the hateful charm
Only to forget the site.
For fifteen hundred years of hurt,
The punishment would run.
Until the High King rose once more,
To free them of the vows they swore.
Whilst all they knew would die away
They alone would living stay.
Waiting, wishing for the other.
Love transcendent of the time.
Into the mists of Avalon
Feeling forever and beyond.
All their magic could not guard
Against the pain that filled their hearts.
Without Merlins aid, Arthwr fell
Though took with him Medraut and Lancelot
The King, Betrayer and Tyrant ruined -
And Nimue weeps in the sun-dappled dell.
Hating the Gods, yet bound to serve,
From their bitter path, neither swerves.
Whilst Morgana le Fay casts her evil spells
She sold her soul, and her power swells.
Wanting for torture and death to the King
She dances round bonfires, and sweetly does sing
Of evil and power and lust for revenge.
Of death and of hate and her son to avenge.
So hiding away they all passed into story.
One sleeping one weeping one killing for glory.
But one day the curse shall reach its end.
Two champions Avalon forth will send.
High King, Queen and faery friends,
Throughout the past and the future shall wend.
From Earth to Annwn and back again
To rule in the borders, the Isle of Avalon.
Christianity spreads; Celt blood runs red.
But joy is renewed and soon comes the One
The punishment lifted, the druid to wake
The evil quashed, beliefs to shake.
Earth to be Christian; Avalon Celt
The latter to prosper the former to melt.
Caledfwlch shall once more be called on to kill.
The joy of the battle, the fell, bright thrill.
But peace to return, the war to end.
Forgiven, absolved, but never forgotten.
The Gods have retreated to the Otherworld
Bright Beli and Danu, the Father and Mother.
Lugh and Taranis and Aranrhod
Cernunnos, Epona and countless more.
The Fair Folk are few; believers wane
But we, the believers, still hope for Prydain
Though the magics are changing
The war is still raging
And we wait for our King
To show us the way.
For they will come again.
Lady Nimue |
