The Silver Spear
THE SILVER SPEAR
My heart, have I cast upon the wind.
And this, is this to be my end?
All I need? I think not!
Perhaps a walk, in Camelot?
A time, a world, so long ago
Lives in my heart, so I must go.
Colors bright, sounds so real,
Lord how I love the way they feel.
I sleep, I dream, and dream some more
Of your visions and of lore.
Perplexed am I, when I do arise.
Sunset? Sunrise? Every waking a surprise.
Sleeping more the days, am I
And to the night, surrender I.
Meet me soon, before the moon
For I am leaving one night soon.
Remember when, I had no fear
And caught I, the silver spear.
Peter Driskell
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Tags: Camelot, poem, prose, silver spear
