Fair Paladin
Along the farm track that leads back toward the meadow
I’ve left scattered memories of times
when battered mislaced sneakers scuffed along
trailing moted clouds of fairy dust and dreams.
The cornfields rustle at my passage,
holding reveries of long ago obeisance.
They whisper of past valor, noble deeds, and brave adventure,
“Be she yet stalwart, faithful, true?”
A deep benched bank curves down along the woods line
to reveal a wandering creek crossed easily in stride.
I feel that in some long forgotten place of mind
it seethes with whirlpool, maelstrom, and abyss.
Greenbrier guard well the meadow’s entry,
flanked by blackberry, poison ivy vine, and nettle.
I dare their gashes, darts, and stings
and wield an ancient staff carved strange and long ago.
I see one lone hard pear atop the meadow’s knoll
and reel that it can be so shudderingly unprotected.
My vision clears and I behold the Tree of Convocation.
I take knee in homage, my defender’s vow renewed.
The meadow speaks now but softly of enchantment,
of hidden faces under wings that fan on goldenrod,
faint figures etched in play with Queen Anne’s lace,
small patterings held quiet under burdock leaf.
The magic fears this middle-aged intruder
who would enchant a castle down to failing farmhouse,
transform hollow caverns into groundhog holes and cow piles,
and challenge courage to become a simple autumn’s walk.
Years rush to push the magic back to memory.
A contestation glimpsed by stark white birch turned dryad.
It seems to fling long fingers out in accusation or entreaty
to find that fair paladin who has become grown up.
Author notes
johnboywaldron.googlepages.com/MainPage.htm
Written March 15th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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Bravo!
Well you had me with 'moted clouds of fairy dust and dreams'. Yes, fair Paladin is ever stalwart, faithful and true; the age passes as it must, but she holds true to the magic, even though it now merely whispers. I'm so glad you can still hear it... -
Outstanding
What a great, grand, and stunning piece of work. I too have longed for those nobler days of youth, that age of true adventure. The imagery here is...well perfect. What brilliant pictures you paint. A fantastic comparison of the viewpoints of ages seperated. Especially this:
The magic fears this middle-aged intruder
who would enchant a castle down to failing farmhouse,
transform hollow caverns into groundhog holes and cow piles,
and challenge courage to become a simple autumn’s walk.
That is just masterful, and this is the inspired work of a master. I have not read you before, but I shall often now. -
Really vivid...I thought I was playing D@D all over again...hehe sorry Im in a silly mood tonight...good write...Wow I rhymed...I hate that...-_-
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Having read the comments above I do feel somewhat bad, but please remember that I am a novice and that have only dabbled in writing some 2 weeks.
I am a fan of free verse, and this appears to run in free verse, but I kept getting caught up on the wording and having to re-read a line or verse.
I would suggest this is my issue more than yours, and your use of language is just too clever for me.
I do apologise, but I struggled to read the flow as I would like, and can only imagine I should revert back to Billy Blue hate books and the like.
Kind regards, Take care. -
Excellent!
This is excellent! very descriptive bringing a yearning to the heart to follow in these footsteps, to experience the same magical euphoria as each foot steps lightly, yet firmly into the imprints left in the dewy grass. So much for the mind's eye to take in, so much to absorb and be filled with a richness that lingers long after the last stanza has been read! I love the idea of the ancient staff, carved stange and long ago... I would bet the color is as smooth as ebony, the feel of it like a lover's caress, fitting like a glove into the hand for support... tis a magical meadow you speak of here, one that only gives up it's hidden treasures to the heart that truly knows the feel and the purpose of its secret delights.
Castle and farmhouse... there may seem to the eye to be a difference in size, yet, somehow, the lesser one is as capable of holding dreams and bringing them to fruition as its counterpart.
I would say there is no doubt this fair paladin has smiled her secret smile... has touched each wonder as it paused before her eyes... has achieved her dream... letting it go with confidence as she knows her own strength, having confidence enough to watch them all float on the breeze in the knowledge they will return to her without fail.
A brilliant piece of work,
Bravo, Well Done!
~Katie~
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Mariposa de Septiembre,
I think if I read a poem of the country, which precipitates feelings of allergy coming on from the mere reading of it, I should have to consider that piece most critical for its imagery and story.
But I do not mind as I have a surfeit of new and used handkerchiefs to avail myself of.
LOL
Do I really have to get serious and say what I thought?
Ah shucks!
This was yet another handsome, finely spun poem by your skillful appendages.
I told you once that I just love to hear about the country.
You know, I have to come back and re-read this, as I have some important dictionary work to do here!
Are you really a musician? Not me. But I own a good guitar!
Take care, and Happy 1st of April!
John -
lovely
the alliteration's marvelous, word choice is perfect, and the imagery swept me off into a wonderfully peaceful place. then, after all that the tone change and my emotions became a little sad, around the stansa about the middle-aged intruder changing the magic into the ordinary...how very sad. ah, but the end made up for it..."...in accusation or entreaty..." it's great! very nice work. peace be with you
p.s. you have an adoring promoter in Mr. Sammy... y'all are cute
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This poem looks like it came from the encyclopedia full of fairy tales. Nice written, softly leading readers to the land of magic. Like a magic dust from butterflies wings.
~Sonja~ -
very good
Good poem, indeed.Very sweet and and tender your happiness.Good flow and deep feelings.
I liked your poem.I can fly as a ray.Nicely done.
I got nice imagery in it.Good job! -
My September Butterfly......Once again you ca
Sweetheart, this poem is one of my favorites! So much here that carries the reader into the character, transforming each transition and each moment. Your fans will love this one as well to add with all your others. See you later on.
SAW - 916.
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