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A Day in Camelot

(Merlin’s Tale Pt. 1)

It was a day in the month of May
But not yet time for making hay.
Once more, the world was gay and bright
For every courtly lady and her gallant knight.

In Camelot, King Arthur married his young queen
And then they picnicked on the castle green,
Munching chicken thighs and mutton--
Wow! she proved to be a real glutton;

But in those days of old--(I should say “yore”)
Ladies ate, and ate, and ate some more,
‘coz ‘fitness’ had not yet come into style . . .
For that, they would have had to wait a while,
Like another fifteen-hundred years and even more,
But meantime, she wouldn’t fit through a wide barn door.

The knights quaff ale and brag of battle,
Dragons they had killed and such prattle
While the queen and her handmaidens sing
Songs of love--and long to try a risky thing . . . .

&*^$%!
(Oops! I spilled my coffee, ruined the pages,
Right up to the gloomy Middle Ages . . .)
But that’s not the story I had meant to tell;
Mine is the one that doesn’t end too well.

Want to hear another stor-y
Exactly like the one befor-y? (OH, Nooo!)

(okay, if you insist)

A Day in Camelot
(Merlin’s Tale Pt. 2)

Hoof beats echoed through the dale;
A knight in armor galumphed up the hill:
Ga-lumph, , ga-lumph, ga-lumph, ga-lumph,
Then, “Whoa!” he cried, his nag stood still.

It’s Sir Lancelot, a noble knight,
The champion of Queen Guinevere;
He succumbed to her ample charms--
And that’s quite true, for I was there.

But, on with this tale of an illicit love:
The queen who had been Lancelot’s foe
Turned into a royal . . . slut). The king?
He knew, but thought--that can’t be so.

Rumors flew left and right. While the King
Was in Scotland--hunting for--whatever for,
Some iron-clad men came charging
To Guene’s room, knocked down the door,

Took her in custody. Lance flew the coop,
But the queen was bound to the stake;
Some cretin yelled, “Let’s light the pyre,”
But Lancelot ruined the royal bake.

He slew each and everyone in his way
To save his Guinevere from a terrible fate,
Put out the flames that ruined her robe--
Revealing--that she was--overweight?

(Here, in a quantum leap, Merlin has Shakespeare tell the henchmen:)

“Marry, knaves, don’t make a lamp of her,
because Her rags and lard will burn a Poland
winter, and if she lives till doomsday, she will
burn a week longer than the world!”

(Oh, let’s get on with this doggerel!)

He heaved her upon his swift steed
And on they rode, feeling remorse;
I felt quite sorry for those two--
But mostly—for the poor swayback horse.

The queen lived out her days
a cloistered, even saintly nun,
While Lancelot became a recluse--
And Merlin? he wrote this for fun.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

to the truth than most realize.

A funny tale, of that I'm sure
Of Sir Lancelot and Queen demure
Merlin probably dipped his wick too
In her oil and no one knew

He was distraught to say the least
To have been cut out from the feast
That's why he wrote with his pen
A note to Arthur about his hen

I thoroughly enjoyed this little tale and couldn't resist adding a footnote.
[Your scansion sucks though]. ~ Geez.
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a very wise man named Merlin once told me: too much perfection in a poem can be its imperfection. Therefore, to hell with perfect scansion; let it suck, suck, suck! lol. Thanks for reading. And Merlin confessed: yes,he did the deed. Jerry

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author comment

I don't know how reliable of a narrator Merlin is but I did find this very fun:)
I always enjoy learning words like dale and prattle! So much comedy that I will defintely ignore the purportedly bad scansion (as I know little of it anyhow!)

raffy

thanks for reading and commenting on this "illicit" love affair and totally inaccurate rendering of a much-beloved Arthurian legend. Heck, if Lerner and Loewe could turn Camelot into a musical, why shouldn't I be allowed to turn it into a farce, right? Of course, then Geezer came galumphing through the vale to elevate my piece of trash with his lofty verse--or is it prattle? (just kidding, Gee) lol. Thanks Raffy.
Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

Hi Jerry, I love Merlin's tale. I've read the first part, for now. Do use "yore", why the question? The meter does seem a bit off, but I'm no expert. The rest is highly enjoyable. I imagine Queen Guinevere (spelled badly?) as a gluton, but women were better fat in those days. Even in my mother's time, a bit plump was OK.
BTW, I'm following a British series about the Knights Templar, before Arthur's time, but I suppose it will move forward to him.
I'll return to read the other tales, all the best.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

yes, it shows that I cobbled this tale together, doesn't it. "Yore" means 'time past, or especially, a very long time past. Gracy, thanks for reading, and the british series sounds interesting. I must check it out. Thanks so much. Jerry.

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment
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