Lady in the Mist

The day was bleak and the Tor was steep

As I walked up to the crest,

The tower of St. Michael’s Church stood gaunt

And I stared, as if obsessed,

The myths lay thick on the countryside

And surrounded me as they grew,

And I hoped that I might see Avalon

By the side of the River Brue.

 

I thought I could hear the clash of steel

In the valley, down below,

The sound of a sword on a buckler shield

But the mist obscured the show,

The sun lay on the horizon as

It had done for a thousand years,

When Guinevere lay with Lancelot,

And she woke to her husband’s tears.

 

I thought I’d better get off the Tor

As the light was growing dim,

The mist a-swirl in the fields below,

I’d be lost if the night set in,

I made my way down the southern slope

‘Til I came to a wooden bridge,

And a lake that I hadn’t seen before

From St. Michael’s, up on the ridge.

 

Around the lake was a swampy ground

Where the reeds in profusion grew,

Climbed up the bank of the silent lake

And glistened with mist and dew,

I’d barely taken a dozen steps

On the bridge, when I heard a sigh,

And the lilting voice of a woman there

As she walked on the other side.

 

She was dressed in a long and trailing cloak

With a hood pulled over her face,

And she seemed to drift on the further shore

With unworldly poise and grace,

She saw me then, and she stopped and turned

And she pointed into the mere,

Where the water was only inches deep,

Then she seemed to disappear.

 

I rubbed at my eyes in disbelief,

I must have been seeing things,

There was nothing there but the mist, the mere

And the fear that silence brings,

I heard the jangle of armour then

And footsteps on the bridge,

But nothing to see, the bridge was clear

Though the sound had made me flinch.

 

I looked out over the water there

As a hand and an arm appeared,

Just where the woman had pointed to

Before she disappeared,

I seemed to see the whirling shape

Of a sword, flung into the mist,

And the hand in the lake had caught it,

Held it aloft on a slender wrist.

 

I blinked just once, the sword had gone,

And the lake was undisturbed,

I shook my head in confusion then

At the sight and the sounds I’d heard,

I waded into the water there

And made for the self-same spot,

I needed to satisfy myself

If the sword was there, or not!

 

The water was only inches deep

And clear as a crystal spring,

It didn’t take me a moment there

To see what my search would bring,

An ancient sword on the surface there

That I reached on down to hold,

But found it was gripped by a skeletal hand

Wedged deep in the mud and mould.

 

I pulled and the bones released their grip

So I held the sword on high,

It was badly eaten away with rust

In the years it was left to lie,

Then I heard a sound on the nearer bank

And I turned to look in her face,

The woman I’d seen in the cloak and hood,

Who’d moved with unearthly grace.

 

She stared at me with a look sublime

But she never uttered a word,

She reached on out and I found that I

Was handing over the sword,

As she held it up, it gleamed and shone

Though her hands were bare to the bone,

Then I knew the sword was Excalibur,

It was going back to the stone.

 

She turned and drifted into the mist

Was lost in the darkening night,

I somehow knew that I couldn’t go

Where the dreams and the myths unite,

She’s one with the knights and Bedivere,

With Arthur, where he has gone,

To sleep in the mists of chivalry

By the waters of Avalon.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Leigh]

When Briton's need is greatest she shall appear. You put in so much historical reference and extra quality embroidery in that this ancient tale has seem to have come alive again and all of a sudden I am back in time on the banks of the lake looking through the mists you so eloquently describe. A magical write indeed.

[Siren]

Slightly chilling, but not in a nightmarish way. I really enjoyed reading it. Well-penned, sir! I sometimes got a little distracted by where the rhyme scheme didn't exactly seem to line up, but overall it was a great write. Thanks for sharing with me!

[Valentine]

Wow, you captured this old story terrifically..did you study things like this in school?
There is no one in the world that can write something like this and make it so interesting..loved this one..love Kathie...have a very Merry Christmas

[Marie]

Lovely ballad on a lovely subject...Excalibur, Avalon, the knights have neverbeen just a myth to me.

[David Scott]

One of my favorite stories since I was a child...
Your poetic version is no less rewarding to imagine with. I loved the building of the landscape and the haunting adventure of it all.
Very well done David.
Thak you for the read.