Upon the mound of Oswestry
Wise Merlin held an orb aloft
The sun shone down in silver shafts
The mountain breeze was warm and soft
As if embraced in Gaia’s arms
A calmness came upon him now
He thought at length of what to do
He winced and tensed his furrowed brow
For Nimue did demand of him
The power that had made him great
In kind for her undying love
Pursuit of which would seal his fate
His powers of foresight did show
The consequence of such an act
But lest he meddle in times flow
He was a victim of this pact
For once he gave his power up
His Nimue could then have her way
And powerless to change this course
He was now but her helpless prey
The wisdom of the flaming orb
Did not bring answers to his mind
His secret knowledge would be hers
His love for her had made him blind
Resigned to what must happen hence
No more could Arthur he defend
His Kings untimely death he thought
Could be this folly’s brutal end
Merlin
Inspired by the excellent work of Sarah Moore and her image Merlin
I often write in an archaic voice as I enjoy the flow of the words. On being amazed by the Mists of Avalon series of images, I decided to write this piece.
Image Copyright: Sarah Moore 2008