Excalibur II

Excalibur II

Gwen,

Petrified, yet split apart

by the pain of your departure;

embedded in the stone of my heart

is a sword as powerful as Excalibur.

Camelot’s besieged by constant rain.

Minstrels wrap melodies

around off-color keys.

the Grail’s been  discovered

in The Supper of Davinci,

and Ladies it seems,

no longer abstain.

Please, Gwen, won’t you return?

Art’s high ideals quickly changed tables,

when the material proved tangibly fatal.

Lance has been expelled from France

for failing the inquest in advance,

and Galahad has died

from an overdose of peroxide.

I now, dream lonely inside my bungalow walls

table for two, a place set for you,

waiting, writing this as I recall

my dream-days spent loving you.

You were young and the world needed redress;

atonement for previous schemes.

You inspired us to higher dreams,

legend became history, and upon behest

you answered the prolonged quest;

to write the wrongs

of the duly oppressed.

We had met in an intimate corner of that world.

You were indicting equivocation,

while I formulated astrology and magic.

You were in need of a champion

and I desired a companion.

My powers became your shield

to keep our love concealed,

But that was before the tables got turned,

before you spoke of leaving;

returning home, to your far away land.

I was stunned and disbelieving.

Your response stabbed my heart to the hilt,

left me lying on the floor

of Love’s tournament tilt.

By a last ounce of courage

I was restored,

but my heart was sliced

suddenly, by the sword

of your sharp departure.

Now Gwen, please, won’t you come back?

Spend your life with me

here, in my mythical. . . misery!

Your friend and lover;

Merl