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Poems By Ray Turley: (From his book: In Search of Camelot)
FfwrwmIn Search of Camelot,  Song of Songs (for Guinevere)
Poems By Alan Barrow: Song of the Mountains,  Arthur,  Merlin
Poems By Shaun K.: Arthur's Land,  The White Oak 

Poems By Ray Turley:

         FFWRWM
Come wide-eyed through the gate,
and let the sleeping street race by.
For here's a magic place,
a spell to catch the eye;
a haunting theme where only wide awake,
            are you allowed to dream.

What would you dream?
A willow coverlet to share with friends;
to make a world of dappled green,
where nature blends
her heart with who you really are?
.....or might have been.

Will you dream a vixen's night-call
while a princess sleeps alone.
Will you dream a warrior's footfall,
just below the courtyard stone;
Will you dream a dragon's teardrop,
carved upon a waiting throne.
.....will you dream a circled cross,
a Celtic knot,
Will you dream Merlin,
golden rooftops, burnished, burning sunlight, star-bright,
even Camelot.....?

.....Hush poet, let it be.
These are your dreams; and there is room
beneath this tulip tree
to spin a thousand different dreams,
Now, share instead the dreams which others make;
the souls who come into the Ffwrwm;
and come awake.

- Ray Turley

Poems: In Search of Camelot,  Song of Songs (for Guinevere)   [Top]

IN SEARCH OF CAMELOT
Here in a nest of staring eyes,
unerring in the hollow ring of unlove's love;
a broken grail drips wine
and blood.
beneath the crush of tarmac fields.
Tyre treading and unheeding, rush the speeding nowhere,
bleeding grimaces locked in a jaw,
where smiles belong.
And who, inside a noisy head,
may hear the subriety of nature's song '?

Who spares a thought for this man-magic lost ?
Lost to a time which tears apart.
the heart of beauty time once made.
Who sheds a tear for Camelot ?

Did we once believe, between these running hills ?
Conceive a Citadel, where river tides spell out,
an ocean's longing to return and bring,
his touch again upon Caerleon's bridge,
- the longing of a King.
And, if we watched, who were we then,
urging not gain or loss ?
But merging with the music of a feasting hall,
feeling the unknowable and knowing all,
beneath the Celtic cross.

I hose hearts who lived what isness calls to test,
loved only what is love;
rode out upon a wildflower path,
to watch the golden turrets set a sleepy sun to rest,
could I have nestled there, upon the thigh of twilights lap,
with whispered stories of a sword which heals,
amid the swords which cut?

Dare I feel it here again?
beneath the sooted urban clouds,
the rain which stings the eye;
and be devoid of pain.
Shall I release the breath of Merlin from the bits and bytes,
which spin him on a floppy disc of endless days and nights.
in treasuries where blades of grass,
are sentenced for their loss,
of cost effectiveness?

Can I shut out this stony-faced insensitivity
which so ungraced the worldly poise,
in IBM compatibility,
and need's unheeding noise?

Oh yes;
I will not wail the stranger's dirge!

The ancient magic still wells up beneath my feet,
where blood-wine lives on earth
and calls upon the stars
to mend it's broken cup;
and looking up, and reaching out to share,
I find a gathering of friends among the knights,
and hear the minstrel's song upon the air.

A flowing lady comes, spun out of white-fleeced clouds,
inviting me to fly a mystic space where time forgot;
A space where earth and heaven truly touch;
and here, for me,
is Camelot.

- Ray Turley

Poems:  Ffwrwm,  Song of Songs (for Guinevere)    [Top]

SONG OF SONGS (For Guinevere)
May I come now to Camalot?
Now while your feet are soft and bare;
no jeweled crown to wear upon your head.
Your body clothed in nothing but an untied gown,
untried by questions on the scented air
which folds away for you.
And will your hair be free to light my cheek;
the only heart upon your breast,
the heart I give again to keep
to claim an instant of your fragile name;
and heal the pain of kings and queens
and courtly marriages,
where slept those unkept promises
- and truth, lost in a golden glory, wept.

Will you wait ungarlanded.
An ageless loveliness to fate my ageless soul.
And will there be no sound inside your room,
or music caught upon your resting thought,
except the music which I bring to sing you with
from every woodland glade and mist enchanted lake;
and in the music take your hand awhile.
For where else may such music be and how,
unless with me in your enchantment now.

And shall we privately accept,
beneath those guilded turrets where we kept
our distanced innocence;
that times and places in our outer worlds may sleep,
while we un-noticed in my song of songs, must keep
an hour or so of harmony to flow - to be believed - Iet go,
then in the pain of memory, retrieved
to grace whatever time we make it so.

Shall I steal Merlin's potion for a body balm,
to feel and touch and calm
and heal the knotted regal bond
from every part of you.
And will you bring no food for me,
except the feeding of my soul upon your borrowed flesh:
the pulsing, living from which gives itself afresh;
and in it's giving, so lives on for me.

And will you call us back into belief
of such brief burnings out of time - and out of care,
with only bright white wine to share.
And will my rain-soft kiss upon your breasts,
make sweet red berries grow;
and will you meet the flow which tests my fingertips,
arrests the dancing butterflies who pause
and feel for nectar where the flower's cause is spun.
And will you be a flower for me,
which opens to an unforgetful sun.

Will there be no light except the candles which I bring;
no place beyond the hearth, no bells to ring
across the town.
No quissing eye or frown to take to task
and not one promise raised to give or ask.
Nor yet one red-bitch tongue upon a village street,
where names of you and names of me may meet.
No sword to take from saddened kings
and not one tear to cry out of a dragon's eye.

But only where our shadows twine and dance upon the wall;
only in my song of songs to raise and fall
this tight-wound pendulum where ticks
an endless hour or two.
A time beyond your world where magic touches you
and nowhere else exists.

- Ray Turley

 Poems: FfwrwmIn Search of Camelot   [Top]

 

  Poems By Alan Barrow:
(A member of the Tumbarlan Sound Poets)
Song of the Mountains,  Arthur,  Merlin.

Song of the Mountains

From the fat valley
from the flat vale
the Roman
cricked his neck
toward the mountains
alone.
I there
walk on the cushioned air
of mountains
alone.

Within his world castle
within his walled camp
the Norman
Shook his fist
toward the mountains
I there
devoid of care
secure in the mountain lair
alone.

By his bought water
by his brought word
the Englishman
wills his shadow
toward the mountains
and wants them for his own.
I there
in despair
burn and level (watch them level)
my mountain home
I
I alone.

with a lost suffering
with a last shrug
the Welshman
turns his back
toward the mountains
I there
thrice hear
us deny
our own
the mountains
alone.

- Alan Barrow

Arthur

Arthur, things will never be the same
What blasphemy is spoken in your name
I he unworthy wish to link their lives to you
But these are hapless, helpless days
Wherein nobility, civility are never praised.
All those once pleasant places
Now are filled with lures
To trap the magic that is yours.
How tragic that the trappers, do not know the cost
For such magic once trapped is forever lost

               - Alan Barrow


Merlin

Welsh as rain
yet rare as rainbows
raw like pain
shaped by God knows
sightings strange as Vikings.

Wedded to wood
finds mettle in the minds of men
part evil and part good
ready to tip the balance when
Might might overcome Right

Wonder immersed in Magic
Chief conjuror of charms
This wanderer, well wisher, quick
plants Arthur in our world chants.

- Alan Barrow


Poems: Song of the Mountains,  Arthur, Merlin  [Top]
 

  Poems By Shaun K.:
Arthur's Land,  The White Oak

Arthur's Land
In Arthur's land,
Where Time began.
In the cauldron of Tyr-an-Nog
From Otherworldly fog.
Did a man Arise,
Bold True And Wise.

His light to rescue the beleaguered.
To free the down trodden from their fetters.
Of noble birth, comets foretold of his coming.
To a land in the depths of suffering.

His light to unite the tribes of the one.
To drive the Saxon from the Mighty Isle.
To end the conquest of Rome.
To stop the quarrelling Kings at home.
For peace, for love, for justice.
For the people, a kingdom of Truth!

From times of Old,
Do the Ancestors return.
To aid the resurgence of light.
In Arthur's Land the future was bright!

Existing in between space and time,
Arthur the King of Myth and Rhyme.
No other could match such deeds.
None. But one ~ when he returns again to Lead.
Bringing us once more to Truth.
Away from these media un-truths.

Cutting with a sword of light,
Through the clutter of our minds.
Coming back to what is real.
Leaving behind the concepts and surreal.
Living with the land, hearing our Hearts.
Destroying the mind sets that Keep us apart.

Oh! But his cry to our hearts is a simple one ~
"My people!"
"BE TRUE!"
"Each and everyone!"

- Shaun May 96


The White Oak

Standing tall and proud,
None other it's equal.
Great tree of wisdom light.
In the mists, the White Oak shines bright.

Glimpse of words in whispering boughs
But nothing to be seen above or below
Yet Ages speak clearly, understanding looming
Without a sound, revelation of times before,
and times yet arriving.

Tree of Life, teaching laws of life.
From a golden seed it did sprout,
In the cauldron of earth, before words, it was grown.
And yet along with mens hearts it was born.

Record keeper of the race of men.
Protector of wisdom on the Mighty Isle.
Chief of trees, life giver, shelter and Gate
Druids totem, Guardian to worlds beyond
and Mens fate.

Spirit tree of the heart,
Though none shall see, we shall never be apart.
Prophecies may come and go,
But none shall see what you know.

The Awens's Awen, great tree of renowned
Guide us back to ancient wisdom -
The within, beyond our own.

- Shaun March 96


Poems: Arthur's Land,  The White Oak   [Top]
 


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