O, beloved: O, best loved Blanchefleur!
Now I lay me down upon the green earth
Of my own land, which I held best of all—
Till now, when ’tis the worst to me, for now
Upon my rising I’ll not see the face
And smile of my beloved Blanchefleur.
Nor shall I till the years have passed us by!
What purpose has the Lord to keep me here,
And she still there, yet separate and distinct
When we feel nearly one—in spirit, soul,
If not yet in our, frailer, mortal flesh?
This is another—internal-chronologically, possibly the last—poem in my series of poems set in the Arthurian legends (see that link for a slightly more detailed explanation). The speaker is in fact relinquishing the name—the identity—of Taliesin, according to the story which shall be told in my planned novel Sunshine Civil War. In order of composition (“Doylist” chronology), this is one of the later poems in the series, but was written several years ago, and I have no way of dating it any more precisely than that.
I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions, or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets each week, such as yesterday’s archive installment, so you can just start with those). I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.
This poem is also mirrored on my wiki.