The Lady of Astolat

A dangling weave of tangled threads
Lies mangled on the loom.
The scent of broom and bitter root
Still permeates the gloom.

A shadowed light was all her world,
Wherein the mirror lies -
The misted lake of Avalon,
A dulcimer of sighs.

And she would gaze on Camelot
Within the mirror's glass
A peerless portal to that world,
Its future and its past.

The halcyon days of Arthur's court
In songs of troubadours,
The knights and code of chivalry -
A kingdom she adored.

Weave and spin; spin and weave
Watch the shuttle fly
The days weave out; the days weave in
And I will break the sky.

She felt the waning years' restraint,
The gloom of heart entombed
A shadow play of tragedy
The censed reek of doom.

"Alas, I am a Queen of shades
To bear the cruelest taunt -
To never gaze at Camelot,
Just its reflected haunt."

When on that road to Camelot
She glimpsed a knight so fair,
She turned from mirror to gaze out
And ached to flee her lair.

The shuttle broke within her hand;
The tapestry unfurled;
The mirror shattered in its frame -
The destruction of her world.

Weave and spin; spin and weave
Watch the shadows fly
The days weave out; the days weave in
And I will break the sky.

She felt the curse - destruction's plague,
Its rampant rage malformed
Did send her fleeing from her rooms
To seek refuge in the storm.

And when at last a boat she spied,
She felt the final hour -
A drifting grave, a river bed
A reeded, wind-spent bower.

She drifted down to Camelot,
A blessing on her breath,
That he who never knew her life
Should gaze upon her death.

That goodly knight with honeyed words
Beheld the lady's face
"For beauty naught in any life
Could ere eclipse her grace."

Weave and spin; spin and weave
Watch the shuttle fly
The days weave out; the days weave in
And I will break the sky.