Howling winds and surging waves.
Tonight no one will be confined to their graves.
Here take my white-hilt sword,
once given to me by our Lord.
A narrowing path
down the carved hills of the island of twenty thousand saints, their wrath.
A hamper to quench your neverending hunger,
maybe I would have felt the same if I was younger.
Your visit is welcome yet surprising.
My dear, what have your thoughts been devising.
Rejoice, during the twilight night with my horn.
We will be merry without being torn.
Mourning, thinking this would be right?
No, that's not right, you would never turn away in fright.
We use your sister's namesake chariot for speed,
the night is too old for the stampede.
The road is long and hard.
Why would you go to those ends for someone marred.
The halter has not been empty for years.
Please, for me, don't shed your tears.
Share with me some happy memories,
of times long last in reveries.
Let your knife be weary,
even though the night is dreary.
You will not need to fight tonight,
I will keep you safe from their spite.
Our cauldron will not be lonely,
though I am the only.
No, tonight will be for merriment.
To rejoice in our present.
Your whetstone will be silent this night,
it will be empty of fight or flight.
A journey safe of war,
No bodies buried on the shore.
Keep this coat for warmth as I have no need,
the night is full of blades and I will not bleed.
One more hill and we're in my home.
Come join me underneath this dome.
Come join me for this meal,
it will be the last of this appeal.
Twilight will be gone too soon,
so sing along with my tune.
A game we'll play
on this chessboard as the sky turns grey.
This mantle for me and this mantle for you.
Will you finally remember with one last clue?
My name has not been on your tongue for eons.
Yet I will ask once more,
Arthur, please, say it; let it roar.
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Author's Note:
Only the first two verses feel a bit halloweeny, and all the reference to the prompt are probably way to obscure for people to pick up to. So a little explanation.
The poem is about Bardsey Island which has several nicknames and is rumoured to be the place Merlin was buried together with the 'thirteen treasures of the island of Britain. Those specific items are in cursive script.
