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like a grumpy ogre the twisted old tree stood guard
notched scraggy boughs reached out in fierce surety
naught had ever compromised its task
in its dutiable charge

the primeval stone held fast the blade
proud and righteous Caliburn
its hilt pointed to the stars
the enchanted issue of Merlin's resolve

and steadfast keeper of the kingdom
thankless was the old tree's post
none would e'er recall its name
no eye would shed a salty drip to its end

nay an honored oath spoken to its passing
still it stood
through the countless sad losses
when the Wee Ones would die in autumn

such beautiful quiet deaths
falling in color to the forest carpet
one soft exquisite flight to their end
each one by itself

each one dear to the old tree
still it stood fearless and proud
for it alone would be the first to witness
it alone would hear the whisper of the wind

when it breathed the name of the new king
when it heralded the name of freedom to the world
when The One slipped the blade from its surly bonds
and the ancient stone split in righteous temper

knife and knight
blade and banneret
Caliburn and king!
like a grumpy ogre the twisted old tree

stood guard





~ 1st Place ~  in the "Unsheathe Your Sword" Poetry Contest
John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.

* This poem is written in "Suzette Prime", (created by a PS member), which consists of lines of prime number syllable counts ONLY, no punctuation or capitalizations, and only of topics which lend themselves to a philosophical statement. *

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