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The Shores of Avalon ©

Baba
Stewarton, Scotland
2005

Quest all the isle of Avalon, that isle of mans invention
Unyielding mists obscuring, from our granite hearts so tainted
Enduring myth and legend, which our mental canvas painted
Sculpted blindly in the darkness of our groping thoughts detention
Take sail within, imagined tides, of space and times suspension
Flights of noble fancy, whispered, past and present haunted
Oh, how we flesh the bones of myth, ethereal and sainted
Required through the ages, Arthur’s moral codes retention
Languish in our dreamscape, Arthur, guardian of its shore
Exorcise our demons: that they may capitulate and yield
Guide us in our sleeping hours, strip selfish waking shield
Expel for us, in sleeping state, that clouding fog of lore
Noble King, make still the tides: that our rafts may travel on
Dream on, dream on, and there we’ll find, the shores of Avalon


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