Tales from the Mirwood

By Karen Lee Oliver

Tales From The Mirwood was written as a sequel to Pergola , my first collection of poems . Tales From The Mirwood follows story-like fantasies that develop out of nature , history , art , fiction , religion and everyday life . Although , in Tales From the Mirwood , these dream like images are never clearly defined , they are presented to the reader to envision as he or she chooses .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 26, 2005
• ISBN: 9781465327604

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

ON THE WINGS OF ENCHANTMENT

THROUGH THE MISTS OF ENCHANTMENT

Milk white clouds

Seemed to descend.

Their long, tenuous fingers

Curling mysteriously

Downward toward treetops,

Rock peaks and rolling hills.

The autumn dressed landscape

Stretched out like a vast wilderness.

The only path meandering curiously,

Disappearing here and there,

Always pressing ever onward toward the horizon.

Sitting on a rock,

The Blackest Knight contemplated

The mystic sky which

Menaced an oncoming storm.

Below led the path through the forest,

Where He had last seen His lady in a dream.

She had come to Him on a white stallion,

Wearing such a silvery gown

Girdled with a golden bejeweled belt;

Speaking to Him like a gurgling brook,

Soft, clear, bubbling with comfort and love.

He reached out His hand

Wishing so to touch such a lovely creature,

Only to wake to the dark clouds touching down;

Firmly knowing in His mind,

He would make this lady His own.

A PERILOUS STORM

Slowly, slowly the misty-fingered clouds

Drew themselves up and down

The deep, dark cavernous mountain.

Until all around The Knight Alone

Were darkening vestiges of the oncoming storm.

While thoughts beautifully rare

He pondered on His lady fair,

The storm menaced from above and below Him.

No longer at peace with His dream,

He began to shiver in the cold dampness

That beckoned Him all around.

Then lightning struck and shocked

Through His sterling halberd,

Pelting rain showered through the air

Stifling His desperate breath,

Chilling Him to the bone.

At last, He cried, "My Lady, My Lady;

Leave Me not!" and cast aside

His glorious sword and shield.

Pinning Himself to the mountain

Until the wild storm ceased to rage.

THE WINDS OF CHANGE

Death, the ominous ghost,

Transfigurer of our lives;

Can be escaped.

As luck would have it,

For our Lord Knight,

Such was the case.

The storm had left traces of it’s curse.

Trees had fallen along

The path below the mountain

Also the ground was thoroughly

Worn away on all sides of the mountain.

Tenaciously, the Blackest Knight

Wove His way down the steep slope.

One thought consumed His mind.

One thought only,

His Lady Fair; His one true love.

Had the storm seized her?

Where could she be?

It tortured him like the rocks

That split and cracked His hands

As He made His way down the mountain.

He trusted the power of His Dream.

He knew He would find Her.

So He consoled Himself,

Keeping in mind the Power

The Wizard, His Father,

Had entrusted to Him

When He left His homeland

To seek

The love of His life

Many moons ago.

THE POWER OF THE WIZARDS

Pigs tongues steeped in brine.

The eyes of an owl.

Amulets of every kind, color, shape and form.

Brilliants, crucifixes, gold and silver.

The sum wealth of a Wizard.

All these things the Knight’s Father

Had entrusted to Him

And all the Powers there within.

To keep Him from harm and Evil.

From all things that would destroy,

Corrupt or punish innocence and good.

These were the reasons, the rings,

The Powers of the Wizards,

That were of old and long-ago.

So our Knight came into their Power.

So He became Master of every Power

That was for the good of Man and God.

With these things, these tools,