She
hidden by a sudden squall
unaware of my dramatic fall
goes blindly on.
I ride on a charger to barge into her,
remind her that I still love her,
she towers above me and yet
she still loves me.
Waiting for Arthur?
we have waited for ever.
Guinevere never here
when I need you.
is this just a fable of knights,
a table and ladies in waiting
relating a tale that was false from
the start?
if so
my heart would surely break
if the lake held no secrets.
Wizardry will be the life or a
death of me
my fate is held and my eyes
spellbound,
I am found wanting.
© 2018, John Smallshaw.
