Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 2351
Posted: February 29th. 2004 6:08:44 PM
King Arthur Chronicles : Merl's Memoirs
by Jemma Hawtrey
Age Group: Adult
Now here’s a little story
In my own words fine and true
About all that I believed in
And things I used to do
I was born beside a forest
In a cabin of earth and log
That place was ruddy freezing
A big hole the outside bog!
The year I think was ‘62
Or was it ‘63
As I was only three days old
It didn’t bother me
Now my friends as I grew up
We lived from day to day
Growing veg and watching cows
And lugging huge great bales of hay
But I knew even then my friend
That I had more than met the eye
For I could pick a lock and spy a chance
And grab wallets fast and spry
The trouble with those talents
And one I found right soon
That others recognition of such
Could lead one to your doom
So I left that loathsome forest,
And that cabin of earth and wood
And as I burned the damned thing down
I felt, Tis only to the good!
I wandered far cross this fair land
And slept between the stars
Ah happy days they were my friends
Nicking fat purses in cheap bars
Well. it was Caernarfon in mid July
And I had just hit town
But due to a bit of trouble
I was attired in a woman’s gown
Now here I beg to differ from others,
In their stories a foretold
A woman’s figure tall and fine,
Is my preference to behold.
I am not as some have said
Strange in any way
For beauty in all its forms
Should be sought the lifelong day
For looking at a handsome lad
You should not be reprimanded
Of course it’s another thing
If you are caught both red-handed!
But I digress from things in hand
And I should get me back on track
So there I was in Caernarfon
In that dress so cute and black
Now it just so happened that
I knew of another mark
Cos some damn fool had left a sword
In deepest Wales soggy dark.
But this proved a slight problem
And I knew not what to do
For the sword was cased in solid stone
And I am only 9st 2!
I had to find someone helpful
And preferably 6ft 2
To do all that heavy chiselling
That myself I couldn’t do
(its my nails you know.. break
as soon as look at em!)
soon enough I met a lad
a strapping friendly fellow
he’d left the army recent-like
on account of being yellow
I said “my name is Merlin, Merl for short”
And he said “Hi, my name is Art”
And then he flicked his long blond hair
I thought “ooh you little tart!”
We agreed to go and find the sword
In the armpit of these isles
But getting supplies and the needed gear
Gave us several trials
Within three weeks we were there
Those midges gave us such a hiding
And yes its true, our backsides were raw
But it wasn’t from the riding…
Now all that happened after
Its all been written down
The Nymph, the Sword, Camelot
And the collapse of Chivalric Crown
So I wont dwell on that fine tale
Its already been done to death
And I want to finish this story
While I still draw breath
You might well have noticed
In other accounts of Camelot
The ‘Shafting on the Mount’
At which our bolt was shot
I was stuck in a traffic jam
On CT4, junction 32
Where a WGV had jack-knifed
And squashed the wandering Jew
(..I wouldn’t want to be the insurance clerk on that one!..)
The meeting was a disaster
Our kingdom deeply in the red
And the myth of Chivalric England
Was well and truly dead
After that I was free and clear
No one knew of my location
Which was to the good in truth
After that large petty cash ‘donation’
My biggest steal in this life
I was almost dancing in elation
I had enough money to buy
The entire English nation!
But I’d been there once before
The end had not been nice
And as any player will tell
You never hit the same mark twice
But at least I’d had one gain
From the Camelot hustle game
The powers the Nymph had given
Meant I could travel time
I went back and forth and back again
And played the quiet game
And with the deeds that I got up to
Things were never quite the same!
You never heard of the fifth crusade?
That’s really quite a shame
That little scam of mine
Is a legend in our game.
I guess you know about that bubble
Found in the South Seas
And that little cashflow problem
For the world in ‘29
But my friends all was not well
For a nose was out of true
For a certain nymph was after me
Planning things a lady shouldn’t do!
For all that she is pretty
Her mind is sharp as ice
A word to the wise my friends
Faery people aren’t always nice
She’s tracked me back and forth
Through times winding corridors
And the myriad loopholes
Of the worlds accounting laws
But my friend I now grow old
And tired of the game
For 1500 years my friend
I’ve put Auditors to shame
So now I give up running
As I have taken good advice
And have made a quiet deal
For a quite unusual price
For tho’ our nymph is no player,
She’ll make a good loving wife…!
Copyright Jemma Hawtrey 29/02/04 18:27
Author's Notes: This is written as a continuation of the story of Art & Camelot started in the ballad of King Arthur. I am planning a few more similar to this for other characters in the stories. As ever it isn’t exactly close to the plot of the original, but hey, that’s me.
There are some notes and things to be explained.
CT = Cart Track – I decided to use a similar naming system for routes as in the modern UK. I.e. M for motorway etc.
WGV = Wooden Goods Vehicle – I think they used to call them carts ;) .
Thanks for reading & comments please.
Ic grete eow ealle
Author's Location: Colchester, England
More Poems: Jemma Hawtrey has posted 70 additional poems- View them?
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