Morgana Le Fay
Many mystic stories about the Lady Morgana are told
About her being a priestesses intelligent and very bold
Ahead of her time she may've been the Merlin's student
She had a child with her brother Arthur and was prudent
Her oratory was artistically defined powerfull and strong
During her life time she already was a legend and had a song
Living in the mists of Avalon she was a fairy and very small
Brooding over the powers of King Arthur one can recall
She used manipulative methods that were underhanded
She danced naked under the moon when the craft demanded
Morgana was beautiful with long black hair and fair skin
She used her sexuality combined with magic to surely win
Morgana inflicted pain and destruction while being daring
She demanded the crown and kingdom no word of sharing
Morgana so different from the more popular Guinevere
Caused the King's adultery as Camille with results severe
But later she remains with the king her brother until his death
Escorting him on his final trip to Avalon in great distress
The stories of strong women of past times and generations
Causing men to shiver and voice doubts fears and allegations
How Morgana would be observed during modern times today
We can't say because what she did would still be foul play
So Morgana remains a mystery and her life's forces unclear
We may look at her as a first feminist - kind of as a pioneer
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Merlin
He appears to be just a regular guy,
But Merlin, he is not like you or I.
His main duty is to serve the King,
And for him, he would do anything.
Merlin possesses a happy disposition;
To protect King Arthur is his mission.
When he is given any task or a quest,
Merlin will endeavour to do his best.
Gaius, the physician, is Merlin's mentor:
His wise words should not be ignored.
Life can be a challenge for this Warlock:
For he is often working against the clock.
Merlin has met with many mystical creatures:
Some of them possess many grotesque features.
Others of them are beautiful beyond belief;
Some bring wisdom, while others bring grief.
That Merlin is daft, the King often pretends,
But the two of them are really good friends.
Merlin and his master share a strong bond;
Of Merlin, King Arthur is secretly fond.
Many a time, he's saved Arthur from death:
Saved Queen Guinevere from feeling bereft.
When he casts spells, his eyes burn bright:
It is then he makes sure he stays out of sight.
With magic, Merlin often saves the day,
But his magical powers, he hides away.
When the King is in trouble, Merlin's at his side;
About how he saved the day, he has often lied.
Neither witchcraft, nor magic, can the King stand:
From the kingdom of Camelot, they are both banned.
Merlin's magical gifts must never be revealed:
If they ever were, his fate would be sealed.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Housebound
Morgana O'Reilly, Rima Te Wiata, Glen-Paul Waru, Cameron Rhodes, Millen Baird, Bruce Hopkins
by Gerard Johnstone from Housebound (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hunter
Sam Neill, Willem Dafoe, Frances O'Connor, Sullivan Stapleton, Dan Wyllie, Callan Mulvey, Maia Thomas, Morgana Davies, Jacek Koman
by Alice Addison from The Hunter (2011)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Maids.
Yesterday I saw an old fashion milk maid
coming out of the cowshed she carried
a pail of milk in her left arm, the grip so
firm fingers used to squeezing cows long
teats twice a day… and she was followed
by five cats with erect tails….
She is the last of a vanishing group of stout
women who smell of cream and honey.
She had an open freckled face and sunlight
danced on her Monroe lips; too late now
for me, milking machines quite obscene,
a Fata Morgana? When I blinked she vanished.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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We the Party
Mandela Van Peebles, Simone Battle, Moises Arias, Patrick Cage II, Makaylo Van Peebles, Orlando Brown, Fabian Alomar, Morgana Van Peebles, Maya Van Peebles
from We the Party (2012)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Eternal Father
Come closer, you distant animal,
Let me see your face;
Come closer, even if your light
Or darkness will kill me.
It is not a fair game
Following wrong steps
Into the end-roads
Of an endless labyrinth.
Come closer, you wild animal
Even as a chimera or fata morgana;
Let me see your face
My dearest friend and father.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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En skyet, guulgraa Luft saa tung og hed
En skyet, guulgraa Luft saa tung og hed
Beaander mig med Ørknens tørre Aande.
I Træthed og i Angst jeg knuges ned;
Er der en Opiumsdrøm i denne Vaande?
Fata Morgana, yppigt, dejligt skabt,
Staaer med sin hede Viin foran mit Leje.
En Lædskedrik, ak, den har Skaalen tabt;
Erindringen derom er kun mit Eje.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Avalon
In this world, the nature is dying
The way we once were is leaving us.
Replaced by machines and war
Save for one tiny little corner of the globe.
Avalon.
The grass is green, watered with the water of the large lake.
There are trees, beautiful, tall, abudant.
The flowers are numerous, and so beautiful.
The one building is decorated with ivy and plants.
Inside, the magic of Avalon takes it hold.
Peacefully, animals and people get along with each other
The water in the lake is clean, pure, and fresh.
Everything here is wonderful.
Saved from war, machines, pollution.
The small island is like a large forest, only there are fields too.
Everything of nature, that we have destroyed
Can still be found, if you know where to look.
Avalon is wonderful.
Nothing here is ever destroyed.
Preserved, never to be found
Hidden by the magic,
The wonderful magic of Avalon
Avalon has no boundaries.
Everything seems perfect.
There is no better place
Nothing is more beautiful,
As nature, the way it should be.
The way it once was
Avalon cannot be found,
The magic is hiding,
For sadly, the world it knew is lost.
The world where nature was more than a home builder
The world where people cared
Cared for the trees.
Cared for the air
Cared for everything around them
Avalon's mists will stay unparted
Untill the world is ready
Ready for the wonderful magic of Avalon
Where nature stays strong.
Avalon
This is a message to the world. Plant a tree, grow a garden, something. We are losing what we once had, and once it is all gone, we cannot get it back. Believe in the magic of Avalon and help the world grow back again, grow enough to save itself
poem by Jessica Millsaps
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The King Of Pop
The child, the man
The legend and still the child
And like a child you died...
You had it all
And had nothing at all....
Through out your tormented life
You managed to become the king
Surrounded by people
All over the world
But still lonely and empty
When with love
You offered all...
Now I can only said
In one word:
You were born a king
And died like a king...
Now you became like
A star shining above
Which had been gone
Long time ago...
You will always live with us...
Tribute to the king of pop
Who made it to the top
And will always remain with us...
Through the end of time....
R.I.P. king...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Hope of a Parallel Universe
The notion of parallel universes are a wonderful possibility
Thinking that I could be somewhere else but still be me
Interpretations of quantum physics truly keep me captive
Possibilities that we could live anywhere and life is adaptive
I love the angle of random selection and different chances
In another universe I would make other choices and advances
Possibilities of a Fata Morgana replicating my own existence here
Appears like an astonishing dream and let my small stuff disappear
Thinking that I would be with you in another world and space
Loving you just the same or even more is a thought I embrace
Right now and here while I mourn your absence and that I let you go
There I would be smarter and we be happy on a different plateau
In this other universe I may knew you from when I was a child
We would love each other from the beginning and later grow wild
I know that each morning I am right by your side and never leave
Life would be great and I am not sitting down thinking with grieve
Right there I would believe in you and give us a chance to grow
I would tell you that I love you and instead of good bye say hello
I harbor hope to live in a parallel universe with you and be free
To do all I dare not here and with you I forever be the real me
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Le Morte d'Arthur (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Sir Thomas Mallory)
With his breastplate shattered he limped
among the dead,
all of his heroic friends were now gone,
around him spread
lay good, great, honest men, the very best,
and up ahead
swords clattered, the sun shone as always,
but he only saw its fading dying rays,
yet to some men King Arthur is not dead
and rise he will
by the great power of Jesus they say,
Arthur lives still
in their hearts as the once and future king
to from great ill
rid the world, I will only further say
that Arthur was a great man in his day.
[References: 'Le morte d'Arthur' by Sir Thomas Mallory. 'But many men say there is written upon his tomb this verse: HIC IACET ARTHURUS, REX QUONDUM REXQUE FUTURUS 'Here lies Arthur, the once and future king.'' From 'Le morte d'Arthur' by Sir Thomas Mallory.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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To Arthur Pendragon
Now many centuries after his death
I know that there had never been a king
that on this earth did breath
who by his valour and nobility had my heart rising
as Arthur of Camelot, Arthur of the round table did
and although his sword Excalibur forever stays hid
through centuries his tales remains as the token of chivalry
and somehow there is truth and a kind of magic to it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Snow-White (Part 1)
Hers were the beautiful blue eyes and the black long hair,
She watched her blood dropp freezing to burn in the air.
Her pale lips were keeping the mark of her love's glow,
She wanted a child having the skin as white as the snow,
The hair as black as ebony and the lips as red as the blood.
That red on that white looked as beautiful as a flower bud.
She was sewing and watching the ebony of her window's frame.
An angel became visible in the air to tell her the child's name.
''Light up this love, my Lord, and give me this child of light
Unbearable is this pain of mine, light up my soul and my sight.''
Coming up the stairs, the king saw this and he told his queen,
'This white angel is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen! ''
The queen's heart used to be like a little book being unread,
But in front of her husband, it has become an open thread.
He tenderly kissed her, ''Your broken heart is no longer dead,
Because for Snow White on the snow your secret has bled.''
When she gave birth to her child, the sun rose to be so bright
And everything in the castle could be seen in the holy light,
But when the king came to see them, he heard only the sighs.
When he saw his dead queen, sad tears flooded his black eyes.
While he was living with his child being a lonely sad father,
The king thought to bring to little Snow White a new mother.
''Light up this life, my Lord, because I have only fears and sighs,
Change my fate, because I need a new morn in my sad eyes! ''
He married again, but the queen's heart was mercilessly beating.
She was like a dangerous snake and poisoned was her greeting.
Her sarcastic lips were always keeping the mark of her hatred,
Her powers were hidden, because for her the devil was sacred.
She kept her frozen air, although the snow was melting in Spring,
Her words could remain suspended in the air to freeze everything.
‘'Mirror, dear Mirror on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all?
‘'You, my queen, are fairest of all'', echoed the mirror in the hall.
The Snow White grew up becoming more beautiful than the queen,
The king told her, 'You're the most beautiful child I have ever seen! ''
When the mirror told the queen, ‘'You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
She added, ''Little Snow-White is still a thousand times fairer than you.''
The king started seriously to think of the passion they had known
‘Cause the queen's self-satisfaction and insensibility have grown.
He realized that it's a wretchedness to continue sharing their bed.
He wanted to open a dialog with her, but the words left all unsaid.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Le Roi Est Mort. Vive Le Roi!
Why wait for Arthur? He too long has slept.
He shall not hear you--no, nor heed your moan,
More than the wail of those fair Queens that kept
Their watch for him what months in Avalon!
He shall not wake for any mother's son
Nor mother's daughter of them all in tears,
His knights, his ladies. How then for this one,
You the last blossom of our world's lost years?
--Ah, let him sleep. For see how in the wood,
Under the dead oak, green new saplings spring,
How the thorn blossoms, while birds cry aloud
In scorn of grief. And, Lady, by the rood!
There rides a knight, new--armed and questing proud,
Who shouts, ``The king is dead. Long live the King!''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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King
KING
' Martin Luther King
and that he was
a man of great moral
a leader because he led by example
KING
what makes a man a king
his determination to lead his people
his commitment, his drive
KING
a father
a husband
a friend
a Leader
For whom left his mark as KING
Man of the century to many who knew his pain
his struggle
Name another man who put his life in the teeth if death for a cause more than King
and for that same reason,
That Farther, Husband, Friend and Leader
Remains most of all
KING'
By: Kottrell Johnson
poem by Kottrell Johnson
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‘My sister – Life’s overflowing today’
My sister – Life’s overflowing today,
spring rain shattering itself like glass,
but people with monocles still complain,
and sting, politely, like snakes in the grass.
The elders have their logic of course,
certainly yours is foolish, no doubt:
that eyes and lawns glow lilac in storms,
and sweet perfume blows from the south.
That in May, when traveling you see
the timetable on the Kamyshin line,
the Bible’s penned no less magnificently,
while in reading it you’re mesmerised.
That sunset has only to show a village,
girls crowding the track as we flee,
and I find that it’s not my stop today,
the sun offering its sympathy.
With three splashes the bell swims by,
‘Sorry, not here’: its apology’s far.
Burning night seeps under the blind,
the steppe plunges, from step to star.
Winking, blinking, sweetly somewhere,
my love, a fata-morgana, sleeps yet,
while, like my heart, splashed on platforms there,
the carriage throws window-light over the steppe.
poem by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Camelot
In ancient times, young Arthur stood,
Above the stubborn stone
That held a destiny so good,
For one and one alone...
Who held the sword within its power
Would rule the kingdom well
And suddenly, within the hour,
That secret it must tell...
When Arthur pulled and pushed the sword,
He learnt the lesson there,
That strength alone is self-assured,
A King must show a care...
As force is just the start, not all,
It's wisdom that each needs
And blessed are those who hear its call,
Without it, none succeeds...
When Merlin played his magic arts
With potions and dark spells,
His incantations fooled men's hearts
With showmanship that sells,
The kind that seems salvation's friend,
Yet pagan were his ways,
Perhaps until his very end
When he, the Lord, obeys...
Meantime, King Arthur had a dream,
A city built with love,
Where men were noble not extreme,
Still courteous though tough...
If peace could blossom like the rose,
Men had no cause to fight,
No need for men to come to blows,
To prove the best or right...
Thus Arthur chose his noblemen,
His knights who'd won their spurs,
With them, he strove for peace to gain,
No matter what occurs...
While wisdom led him by the hand,
His heart and head were one,
Such that his fame had crossed the land
From dawn to setting sun...
But Fate was working in the courts
Where justice was dispensed,
Such that King Arthur heard reports
And he became incensed...
A rage then festered in his soul
Through infidelity
And of his wife he lost control,
Despaired eternally...
Such is the bond 'twixt man and wife,
Let no man come between,
Else fear to lose his very life,
If he should intervene...
When Merlin heard the sorry state,
He mourned for Arthur's loss,
He wept at this, the twist of Fate,
As callous as Christ's cross...
The Queen discovered lust cares not
For commoner or King,
Not even there in Camelot,
Could she escape its sting...
For like a scorpion's deadly kiss,
Was lust the final flaw,
That killed a kingdom's wondrous bliss
And shook it to the core...
Think not, that Camelot was spared
The rumours and the sighs,
Though many noblemen still cared
Despite those that despise...
With heads held low, for shame, for grief,
Their legend tainted thus,
One knight fought on in his belief
The Holy Grail heals us...
And so he journeyed far and wide,
Christ's cup to heal the hurt,
Yet who knows if it was supplied?
Because the legend's blurred...
Some say it was, by grace, in time
And Arthur was restored
And Camelot endured sublime,
Blessed by our Sovereign Lord...
Yet others tell of Arthur's death,
Excalibur returned
And with the parting of his breath,
Was Arthur's dream now spurned...
But this I know, of all Man's dreams,
God's roses truly grow
Within the hearts that spurn extremes
And yearn for Christ to know...
It's not the chalice that can heal,
Forgive or mend the mind,
It's just God's grace that grants appeal,
Atonement, pure and kind...
A godly knight can journey lands,
His quest may guide him well,
Yet only Jesus understands
How Heaven saves from Hell...
Did Merlin find God's grace at last?
Did Lancelot find peace?
Did Arthur overcome the past?
The legends never cease...
Such legends now are all we've got,
That's why they're highly prized...
Yet Christians wait God's Camelot,
The Golden Age of Christ!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Move
Your move!
It's time to duel and there's no backing down
The heart of the cards is where magic is found
We've played this game before, but never this quite this way
Its like an all out war with monsters that obey
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games
Yu-Gi-Oh!
King of Games
Your move!
Nowhere to turn now the traps have been set
Play that one last surprise, hey it ain't over yet
They've got the upper hand, but that won't last for long
It's time to take a stand and show 'em that youre strong
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games!
Yu-Gi-Oh!
Hey!
Egyptian secrets are revived
Ancient powers have survived
When wrong from right's not black and white
Friends will help to win the fight
Solve the Puzzle's mystery
Unlock a hero's destiny
Now alter egos, no one knows
Side by side they fight their foes
It's time to duel!
These dual identities, they struggle for control
Two personalites inhabiting one soul
It's not a match you're in, it's much more like a brawl
The only way to win, you've got to risk it all
Your move!
It's time to duel and there's no backing down
The heart of the cards is where magic is found
We've played this game before, but never this quite this way
Its like an all out war with monsters that obey
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games
Yu-Gi-Oh!
Hey!
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games
Yu-Gi-Oh!
(Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games
Yu-Gi-Oh!
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yu-Gi-Oh!
He's the King of Games
Yu-Gi-Oh!
Your move!
song performed by by Yu-Gi-Oh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cigaren
Cigarens Glød er et Ildsted,
hvor Ildaander er tilhuse;
Den Ene blæser med Puster,
at Ilden skal ikke gaae ud;
Den Anden rører med Ildtang,
faaer Saften til at beruse;
I Dampen er der en Troldkraft,
en lille cigarfødt Gud;
Han bygger, som Fata Morgana,
det Røg-Slot Tankerne ville;
Han viser nu for mig Hjemmet
og alle Vennerne der;
Jeg glemmer at Have og Bjerge
uendeligt vidt os skille,
At nede paa Pladsen rigt gløder
Orangens duftfyldte Træer.
— Nu lægger jeg bort Cigaren;
Sevilla, du deilige Stad!
Jeg glemte Dig, jeg var i Danmark,
mens her med Cigaren jeg sad.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Love Has Many Faces
Love has many faces as we all know well
And love is a thing you cannot buy or sell
The love that grows between a woman and man
Though sometimes such love does have a brief time span
The love of a mother for her daughter and son
Of all the great loves doubtless the greratest one
She remains as their mentor and their greatest friend
And their character and honour at all times she defend
Love in the animal and bird World even than human more strong
For love of his family and borders the bird sings his song
The animal mother for her young will die
Those who tell animal love is not strong are broadcasting a lie
Of all of the great stories we wish to recall
Perhaps stories of love are the greatest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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