Departing Arthurians

Written by: Grace Williams

And to the past they rode The Shining Host: lent death or immortality by golden sands of time. Call not them back Lest to discover that They who last held Rome's bright light Were marauders Filled with spite Nor recall Their lovers fair And find them sluts Or, robbed of time's gifts, Now only wizened mutts Let them go. But catch the insubstantial tales, Akin to Kingly gossamer threads. Only dusty spider's webs By noon's blinding light but the silk of dreams' delight In evening's gentle dales.
** I know that this is too short to be a lay, but I don't really have a time to write a new poem (especially something as long as a lay), and I don't want to break my pattern and re-use a style. When it comes time for me to spend a week on each of the types of poetry I am writing this month, I will write real lays, I promise. Also, the title is subject to substantial change**