This poem was inspired by “Idylls of the King” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson and the fascination writers have always had with Merlin.
The Death of Merlin
Vivian laughed…
It was her plan to trick him.
The ghost of Merlin sighs…
His surprise was the giving in
To the dancing heat
Of her soft glow…
Her charms that
Charmed him…
He who thought he owned
The charms of all a kingdom.
Her Prince she called him,
Playing with Love’s heart,
Convincing even he
That she adored him.
“Vivian,” his spirit cries
As he weeps beneath the evergreen.
Nothing but the angels
Hear his tears
That fall between
The chants, the benedictions,
The beat of Pagan drums.
His tears
That fall between
The fears that leap
With every rope that sounds
The monastery bell,
Or hangs a witch,
Completely dead, as well.
The bells were ringing when Vivian
Left him for a human dead.
There,
In the buttoned shadows
Of the glen,
She stole his magic
With a breath of kisses
While the stars came out,
The moon shine smiled
And crickets chirped
Beneath the briars.
Even in death
His sadness thrives…
Hear it in the whisper
Of the winds,
In the chills that rattle
Up his ghostly spine,
Reminding him
Of all the magic
He once had
Then lost so suddenly
Because of giving in
To Vivian.
His ghost does testify
Love’s madness remains alive.
Even in death
This insanity
survives itself
Curled within
The root of every vine,
In the flower,
And all the grapes
To live for always
In the making of the wine.
Poetry on Wings 