Lighting Camelot is the tentative title of the sixth planned novel in the “Alternate Universes” sub-series of the Shine Cycle, set in and around King Arthur’s legendary court of Camelot. Today’s post is a brief introduction to this planned work. Continue reading
O maiden fair, how happy I must be
When my mind’s eye beholds your shining face
For one brief moment, glorious as the sun—
And though your visage quickly fades away
And I am left to stand again alone,
Though I am blinking as one coming forth
From torch-lit dance hall into silent dusk
Or, blearily, from half-remembered dreams
To sun-kissed waking in the early morn,
My half-euphoric, wistful bliss remains
For quite some time, just as when my true eyes
Beheld you in the way, these months ago.
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 subscribe to 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, like yesterday’s 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 posted on my wiki.
On Fridays I post my poetry, until I run out.
I look across the space between us two,
Seeing nothing but the ordinary,
Feeling like a cold investigator
Without a vested emotional tie.
Suddenly I gasp aloud in wonder:
A nearly-blinding dawn arrests my eye.
Everything is changed — even memory,
For the reflected glory tinges all,
Coating her image, even recollected,
With borrowed splendor from the Mighty One.
I probably wrote this poem my freshman or sophomore year of college. I’m posting it here and on my wiki. As always, I eagerly invite and gladly welcome your feedback of any kind on this poem or any of the rest of my work.
Here, gathered around the clustered tables,
Hands joined in circle’s unity of form —
And not of form alone, for in heart too
Is each one joined. When hands are dropped to eat,
The bond remains, a rare eternal thing
Within this sinful, time-bound, mortal world:
The singular miracle of exchange,
Entered into with deliberation,
Yet unknowing what each coming day’d bring,
Nor seeing coinherence yet in full.
Each bears another’s burden, buoying all
Up in the fellowship of boundless love.
“Therefore in greatest joy we keep the feast!”
But each shares freely, one with another,
Whether from plenty or from poverty,
Whether of means or of experience.
Each sees the Christ in each other one’s face,
Giving glory to God in the highest
And, loving him, loving his image there.
Here, in mortal time and space, are pictured
Shadows of the City for which we wait.
I probably wrote this midway through my sophomore year of college, soon after joining the “fam,” which I described in my Thanksgiving essay, and of which this is intended as a portrait. I’ve now also posted this poem to my wiki. Any sort of feedback–comments, compliments, criticism, or anything else–is as always both anxiously solicited and graciously appreciated.