Owls and Orchids

image from 8tracks.com

“Every man carries the seed of his own death, and you will not be more than a man. You will have everything; you cannot have more…”     ― Mary Stewart, The Hollow Hills

Down country lanes in old England I roam

And feel neath my soft booted feet the soft earthen loam

To reach that corner away down the lane

Where Merlin awaits to teach me again

The fairies and elves have kept me too long

Playing their games and singing their songs

Where has the night flown I really can’t tell

The gnomes and the dwarves rarely yell

To spoil the slumber of those who dwell

With the old  folk neath the Hazel and Rowan

There, Merlin I see in the distance ahead

We travel once more down an old winding track

It leads to the castle, of fame and misfortune

Of Tintagel Castle with cliffs so sheer

No man nor beast could ever get near

So thought Gorlois when protecting Ygraine

But he forgot Merlin who helped Uther

To reach the castle in the shape of old Gorlois

And a son to Ygraine and King Uther Pendragon was born

Arthur, the saviour of the magic of old

Which Uther had tried to banish by fire.

Builder of Camelot and gatherer of proud knights

Fair Guinevere was his wife

And Lancelot First Knight of the round table

Who led the search for the Holy Grail

And Arthur, whose star shone so bright would finally fail

Killed by his son, Mordred, sired on his sister in the night

And so fell Camelot into ruin and decay

Excalibur lost back into the lake from which it came

Where the Lady would keep and watch over it

Til once more it was needed and a saviour was fit

To finally keep and hold it

And Merlin would return from his crystal cave

Not just in my dreams where I see him and wave

Deep in my heart as we soar through the sky

He as an Eagle will fly and I as an Owl

Or running so fast as wolves on the prowl

Crossing the ground as the grasses speed by

But who am I to speak of such things

The heroes are gone

The light has no longer shone

On fair Camelot or the knights of old

And Merlin in his cave of crystal has grown cold

So in my dreams only he will wake once more

So we can wander the lanes of the England of old

And learn of the lore which Merlin knows well

Of Vivienne Lady of the Lake and the magical well

Fairies and Elves, Sprites and Sylphs,

Pan and the Wild Hunt

And magic and spells til the sun shines once more.

Ah slumber, I crave thee to bring back my friends.

And I will no more feel so heart sore.

image from zinkroniandonoz.webs.com –

“I am nothing, yes; I am air and darkness, a word, a promise. I watch in the crystal and I wait in the hollow hills. But out there in the light I have a young king and a bright sword to do my work for me, and build what will stand when my name is only a word for forgotten songs and outworn wisdom, and when your name, Morgause, is only a hissing in the dark.”
― Mary Stewart, The Hollow Hills