Camelot

Camelot, edited
The bright transparent crystals make up every wall,
            upwards towards the heavens, they crawl.
The Roof is constructed of gold plate,
            it does the rains abate.
The floor is of polished granite made,
            large enough to hold an entire parade.
Silver, shining spiral stair,
            leads up to the towering keep,  where sleep, the royal pair.
Windows of rainbow-stained glass,
            display what deeds, Of Arthur have come to pass.
And those which he now exceeds,
            from which some arrogance breeds.
Lad learned of Merlin's arcane instruction,
            leading to Saxon's destruction. pulled the sword from the stone,                                       
As the thwarted knights moaned,
            he pulled the sword from the stone
Bejeweled platinum thrones reside,
            where King and Queen do abide.
Display the diamond rubies, sapphires,
            burning with their fires
The very air smells like roses
            on the noses, which it imposes.
the room tastes like honey,
            it is so bonnie.
So very fresh and clear,
            the hills afar seem so near.                                                       
The skies are pure, robin's egg blue,
            clouds of cotton white,
Shine in daylight, bright,
            as an armored knight.
On a sacred quest, bids Camelot adieu,
            his helmet held a little askew.                                                                                    The fertile land grows green,
            with the largest crops you have seen.
The farmers are so free,
            they can but agree.
Brooks brightly babble,
            as children in the water dabble.
The rivers flow and are so clean,
            and the lakes with fish, sheen.
The people dance happily'
            beneath the sacred tree.
They turn their faces to see,
            Merlin as enchants the very sea.
On each velvet-cushioned throne,
            sit Arthur the sinewy king,
                      and Guinevere of Arthur's golden ring.
The jester laughs alone,
            Guinevere's ebon hair falls down,
                      she wears a pretty crown.
Her ivory skin,
            to a white dove akin.
The land is one,
            are Arthur's battles done?
With Excalibur at his side,
            Across the kingdom did Arthur ride.
On Hengroen his loyal horse,
            Pridwen his mighty shield held in his left hand of course.
Goosewhite protects his noble head,
            Ron his lance held tight in his right, has left many enemies dead.
then one dark night, with Arthur far away,
            Guinevere came to Lancelot the knight.
She says "Lancelot you can share my soft ermine bed tonight"
            Lancelot the knight with feet of clay agreed,
                    tying up his steed.
In their lust
            would consciences adjust?
They joined together                                                                               
            on her bed stuffed with a quantity of feather.
Then when they woke up
            the crystal walls had turned to stone.
Kitchen stores had morphed to the bone,
            with only powder left in her dry teacup.
Where once gold held only wood remains
            the windows filled, with only common panes.
Broke,
            raining glass on common, folk.
Palace transformed into a true, bleak place,
            there was no sign of guilt,
On Guinevere's stiff face.
            the palace that Arthur built was gone.
No bird sang its song,
            everything had gone wrong.
The sky turned the deepest black,
            lightning did the land attack.
Thunder booming so loud,
              you couldn't hear the screams of the frightened crowd.
Then the rain came pouring down,
              on the castle field and town.
The ground was turned quickly to slush,
              turning the harvest into mush,
All the crops lay soggy and dead,
              on each and every farmstead.
The people moaned in fear,
              as subjugation grew near.
As wide rivers began to flood
              dear homes were washed, from where they stood.
The sun turned the color of blood.
              as people gathered what they could.
On this horrible day, people began to pray,
              to pagan gods, in vain.
Nothing to gain.
              as they were washed away.
Arthur tried to drink from the carved ivory horn
              and spilled the spiced wine                                                                     
                          on his garments fine. he fled towards Camelot,
Arrived home raiment soiled and torn,
              smelling like a drunken sot,
He hardly recognized his stricken land,
              he pulled Excalibur with a shaking, hand
He approached Guinevere with a teary eye,
              and said, "why?"
She looked him in the eye and said "You stayed too long on a silly
              quest so I took on a guest."
When these words were spoken,
                Arthur's heart was broken,
He dropped Excalibur on the floor,
                staggered to the door.
Then Arthur heard of Mordred's plan to replace him,
                then heartbroken and grim.
Arthur went to fight his b*****d son born of incest
                in whom he'd shown no interest.
He gathered his knights the table around,
                and vowed to bring Mordred to the ground.
He engaged Mordred in single combat,
                He smelled a traitorous rat.
Mordred had dipped his sword in substance fowl,
                and soon struck a mortal blow,
So Arthur had to go.
                suffering the effects of Mordred's foul.
Dying Arthur called to a noble knight within his sight,
                I can not allow Excalibur to fall into the hands of the un-pure.
Of this I am sure.
                take Excalibur and all its might.
Throw it into the lake where the lady dwell,
          and no lie to me about this tale tell.
So the knight took the mighty sword and left,
          so all about felt bereft.
the knight returned and he'd thrown the sword far into the lake,
          Arthur said your lie I cannot take,
Go back and my words do not forsake.
          this time the knight returned and did as he was bid.
as the blade spun across the water a woman's hand and arm emerged,
          and, a wonderous catch was made,
the knight felt his soul had been purged,
          he thought to go back and tell the tale and that is what he did.
Today there is no Camelot, we have got what we got,
          but its memory lingers on,
                    Of Knights in shining armor so long gone,
Of chivalrous deeds,
            for all our needs,
                      memories, ghosts, and electronic posts.

           
My shot at the Arthurian legend. © Jan 2, Terence Cummings Smith    Arthurian-legend • rhyme