Now this is heaven on earth...could only take place in that little woodsy cabin...no rush, no noice, no giant waves rushing down to suffocate life....where the cabin is...there is the love temple....
Love Bev
Now this is heaven on earth...could only take place in that little woodsy cabin...no rush, no noice, no giant waves rushing down to suffocate life....where the cabin is...there is the love temple....
Love Bev
POETIC LOVE
Whereof, and herein above,
I give up on endeavoring
To form rhymes with “love”,
And relinquish, for now,
Any mention of the turtledove,
Ringdove, or foxglove;
For love’s rhymes are just too few
And it’s getting just
Too darn hard to work “-ove”—
into that small, worn out space
Between God and Heaven above.
So, I’m through rhyming with “love”,
Having, anyway, nothing left to prove,
Or for that matter,
To more poetically improve
That sorry number of words
That sound or even look like “love”.
So, onward—to much better sounds I move;
Getting out of the rut and into the groove,
To hope, and wait for my poems to improve—
And, for my verse to behoove
That all love-rhymes do remove.
And, of course, by now, dear reader, YOU’VE
Noticed, and may only halfheartedly approve,
That, in England “love” sounds like “luve”.
The Impossible Quest
It was Peter’s turn to tell a tale. “I’ll tell you a tale from long ago, about King Arthur’s successor, Percevale. No one knows of this, for the Dark Ages remain quite a mystery; however, I discovered this tale, among others, in an iron box buried beneath an Abbey in Britian.
The Abbey housed both a monastery and a convent, but not in the modern sense of the words, for, back then, monasteries were wholly the world’s centers for libraries, education, and philosophy. Anyway, I’ll tell the story in the present tense so as to preserve the excitement of it”. The beginning of it is inspired by the Prince Valiant series but I need to restate some of it it here (the fight with the witch) for continuity into the newly discovered story. It is called “The Curse of the Death-Crone” and begins thusly”:
As Percevale approaches the great witch’s land, he sees the shield and helmets of those who came and died before. He clutches the Crimson Spear and continues his approach.
“Now, Bogar, my good squire, you wait here, and, if I do not come out within two days, then come in after me.”
Percevale feels the watch of gloom as he enters the territory of the dark. Knowing that he is being watched, he does not turn around to alert the watcher, but slides quickly and unbeknownst into the woods at the next turn. His mentor, Taliesin, the poet, glides noiselessly, silent and invisible within Percevale’s mind! He peers into a window and sees a pitiful sight. The witch’s captives are from the world of the deformed and misshapen—those who are most easily enslaved. Next, plans are made and a good night’s sleep is taken.
In the morning a huge and menacing giant blocks Percevale’s path, but, there is something very human and caring, yet guarded, in the giant’s eyes. Percevale speaks to the giant softly: “You could easily escape the witch’s spell and be free!”
The giant replies: “You are correct; I stay only to protect my misshapen friends from further harm, and indeed I will help you destroy the witch if you will insure the safety of all of them!”
“I am the new King of Britain and the safety of all my subjects concerns me. Just keep your bewitched friends in check while I do battle with the witch and soon you shall all be free.” The sincere words were well understood by the giant.
Now Percevale faces the witch, but not alone, for Taliesin has joined with him in mind, and the bleeding spear is at hand.
“’Tis the accursed Crimson Spear from Avalon!” the witch cries. “Take it from my sight, I can not bear to look at it!” However, Percevale holds it all the more firmly as she tries to wrench it from his grasp with the powers of her mind. She fills his minds eye with evil sights of monsters, but ever still does he hold the red shaft; it is now bleeding profusely and its blood is pooling on the ground. For a day and a night, the battle of the minds continues, Percevale and Taliesin barely holding their own and growing ever more weary—and feeling at each instant that they cannot last another moment.
Towards morning, the battle draws to its climax as Avalon’s grandson is assaulted with every trick known to sorcery by Avalon’s daughter gone astray, but, Taliesin has studied under the master Merlyn and Percevale has the strength of ten because his heart is pure. And then it is over.
As the witch crumples to the ground, defeated at last, she finds those last ounces of strength that come at the time of dying and uses them to place the curse of the Death-Crone upon our hero: “Percevale, from death’s doorstep, I, the Death-Crone, curse you with my last breath; I curse you with the worst misfortune that may befall a man: that you will never find love or be loved again—until rocks flow like water, until the day comes that the sun does not rise, until the new moon is seen with the naked eye, until the planet Mercury is seen at high noon, until fire is seen in water, until it snows in Cisalpine Gaul on a summer day, and until all of the above events happen on the same day within a month from this very day! In other words, you will never succeed! So then, when these events do not happen, for they cannot happen and be seen by you, you will not only be unloved nor able to give love, but you will also find the world to be filled with hate towards you, and you will soon die and forever wear the foolscap of eternal shade, for no man can live for long without love!”
The witch dies, the King is cursed, but the enslaved are free now!
Bogar, forever dedicated, takes what is left of his master back to Camelot. Bogar notes the King’s despair and so Percevale tells him the tale of the witch’s curse. “I shall never succeed, Bogar, for most of the witch’s challenges are impossible. That’s the joke of it, I guess. She just threw in one easy one, ‘when rocks flow like water’ to give me false hope, for I do know of a place where rocks flow like water. But no one has ever seen the new moon. Of course, the full moon is easily seen because it is completely lit on the side facing us and rises when the sun sets and is therefore up all night, but the new moon is just the opposite: it rises in the morning, is up all day, sets at evening, and is lit only on the side away from us. It has never been seen, Bogar! Oh, we have seen the slivers of the very young and the very old moons, but the new moon gives no light at all, so, even if we see but a thin crescent moon, then by definition, it is not the new moon. Even if we knew where to look for it in the sky, which we do not, there would be the glare of the sun to contend with. Even the stars, which do give off light, cannot be seen in the daytime, even in areas of the sky not near to the sun. And Mercury, being so close to the sun, can only be seen just before sunrise or just after sunset, but never at high noon! As for snow in late June or July in Southern Gaul, it is not likely and has never occurred. And I have not yet known a day when the sun did not rise. Even on cloudy days we know that the sun has risen, for there is light behind the clouds. And fire in water! It cannot be. Water conquers fire, they cannot coexist. For any of the above to happen is impossible. For all of them to happen on the same day within a month is beyond impossible, yet, I will not give up hope for I know from Avalon that all curses have an escape.”
Austie...how beautiful and deeply touching is this story...I love the Perceval and Avalon tales and many years ago deeply immersed myself in them for they hold certain wisdoms and are magically romantic reflecting the possibilities and impossibilities of hopes, dreams and visions of all higher meanings about struggles, destiny and battles against despair...
Love Bev
I wonder what happens next…
Somehow I feel you're going to tell us....chuckles
Mikal............(*) ()>>>>>>and Chickadee
Percevale spends the day in the archives of Camelot with Taliesin. Then they spend all night in the Merlyn Tower Room, where they pore over over many old manuscripts full of diagrams But only this much becomes known: The new moon is to appear in two weeks—this fixes the day; and there is only one place where rocks are flow like water—this fixes the place! There is hardly time to get there, so the King immediately leaves for Iceland.
The chronicles covering the first week of the journey did not survived the ravages of time, so we find ourselves already close to Iceland. The sea is glorious and the air is fresh and pure. We do know that during the journey north, the twilight lasts longer and longer each day. There is not a moment to waste, but Percevale spots a vessel in distress behind him, and for a moment he wonders if he should take the time to come to its aid. But, there is no real choice, so he turns back, and, although her ship goes under, he manages to pull her from the depths and spends over an hour reviving her.
And, even when revived, her lips will not part from his, for they have tasted each other and found it to be sweet.
“I am cursed, you cannot love me,” says the Ice Maiden finally, who was named Dheryle. “I am sent to remind you of that which is forbidden to you! I have no choice; the spell overwhelms me! You should have let me drown; then you would have had some peace. From now on, everyone you touch will catch the curse until the world fills with hate and destroys itself.”
“So this is how it is going to be,” laments Percevale. “How I shall hate to give up life’s wonders when I am gone!”
But, this is to be the day of the new moon; at least there is a chance, thinks Percevale. They arrive on the shore of Iceland, and on this day, as on every day for a month either way in this northern land, the sun does not rise, for it did not set the day before, since it stays aloft all day during these six months of daylight! Just before noon, several strange bands of shadows begin to rapidly cross the land and Percevale feels that perhaps the end is near. The ground begins to shake and heave for a few moments and then all is silent, so very silent as to strike one dumb. Something terrible seems to be happening. Grazing animals look for shade trees and lie down to sleep. About noontime, a shadow like that of darkest night covers the land as the moon begins to kiss the sun and cover it—it is a solar eclipse! Merlyn’s old notes in the archive were accurate! Thank the gods for that old wizard!
During the seven minutes of total darkness, Percevale sees a black disk in the sky, surrounded by faint wisps of flame—it is, of course the new moon in all its black glory; indeed, the new moon can only be seen during a solar eclipse, and never at any other time. And there near the sun is a bright “star” that does not twinkle! It can only be the planet Mercury! Yes, there it is, in plain sight, at high noon. And farther out, Venus can be seen!
Now the ground begins to really shake, and Percevale hurries to his ship with the Ice Maiden. They leave Iceland, but see the volcano erupt; rocks are flowing to the sea like water! But the water puts out the fiery flow and so they do not see fire in water, just a lot of steam. Then a tremendous plume of smoke and debris is sent up into the sky and is carried south by the unusual winds born of the marriage of summer warmth and ice cold air brought on by the blockage of the sun’s rays by the dense volcanic ash. The spontaneous cold front sweeps south to Gaul on the reversed upper winds, bringing the darkness of the ashen sky with it. As no sunlight can penetrate, the air below grows colder and colder, and what would have been rain now turns to snow over Cisalpine Gaul for a brief time before the westerly winds can disperse the volcanic cloud about the earth. That evening the sun sinks low, but does not set. On the water is the glitter path of that fiery ball—and so we have seen fire in water!
The sun has kissed the moon, and Percevale gathers the Ice Maiden, Dheryle, into his arms and kisses her, his capacity for love far from dead, but growing stronger every minute of this glorious day as both of their curses fall by the wayside. It was the greatest day on earth.
Would this not be destiny fighting fate...for to be forbidden to love would be the threat to emanicipate hope and let despair wreak havoc on a blind world....destiny is stronger than fate for to live without love is life meaningless and empty...
Love Mikal
Love is the root of all goodness.
Wonder what's going to happen next (there's an epilog).
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