For Joe. Sometimes, you've got to give your muse a shove to get things started.


The Lady in the Lake

I'm toying with The Lady in the Lake, a supple
Metaphor, my Arthur against her as J. She rose,
Done up in brilliant white, her pale and lovely
Face emerging slowly from the placid water.
Beckoned? I don't think she did, but she, still
Far off from the shore, held up the sword,
Excalibur, which was (this is a metaphor)
The symbol of her love for me. She seemed
To offer me the sword, but moved no closer
To the shore. I found a dory in the rushes,
Rowed so quickly as I could to reach her.
She remained in place, and, soon, my hands
Received the blade. She smiled, but never
Said a word. Do creatures from beneath
The water possess that ability? I do not
Know. I didn't care. I dropped the sword,
And wrapped my arms around her, kissed
Her purple lips. Her milky eyes looked into
Mine. Then, with a wan look, she drew back,
And turned and sank into the lake. I rowed
To shore and waited there until the sun was gone.
I waited two more days before I gave up,
Hurling Excalibur toward the place where she
Had been. I hadn't any use for it. What good
Is someone's love if she's no longer near?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 159 times
Written on 2019-09-10 at 15:56

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