An isle of apples conceals
wonders too fantastic to be believed.
Yet believe I must,
for I have seen in my dreams
the legendary Caledfwlch,
the blade which gave Arthur
his right to rule.
I have sat with Morgana
watched her brewing spells
in a wood.
I have sat at the feet
of the Lady of the Lake
basking in her knowledge.
I have slept beneath the boughs
dreaming of fey
and wise wizards
come to shelter me from
dangers untold.
Shall I eat of the apples
falling at my feet?
Should I take one precious bite
and be caused to remain
forever?
I would happily linger here
lost to the mists and the magic
of the isle of apples.
I’m trying a new theme out, hoping to write a series of mythological pieces, so we’ll see where that takes me. Linking this one to ABC Wednesday, which this week started a new round. A is for Avalon, and for Apple, and for Arthur.
Also linked to Poetry Pantry #107.
my words are alive 