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The boy looked around. The forest and lake were still. Before him stood the stone in which the fate of a people, the mythology of a nation, was written.
Gripping the sword’s golden hilt, he pulled it out and held it high.
.
.
by Jenifer Cartland
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by Jen Maidenberg
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Poems | England | Staffordshire | East Anglia | Northern Ireland | The Needwood Poems.
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Oh, is that where it went 🙂
Love this!
Thank you!
nice
I love all things King Arthur and this was no exception! Well done, Tienne!
Thanks!
I like that you made it a private moment. Only the forest and lake watching. In my head that scene is always crowded like Arthus was a big ole showoff.
He probably was a show-off, but then again maybe he’s been misrepresented! For some reason, this image of stillness and silence – just a boy and a stone – came to me very clearly.
❤
Ah, yes. That beautiful moment of glory : )
Love this entry, SL!
Thanks!
A momentous occasion like that should be surrounded by silence and reverence. Beautifully done!
Yes, I think that’s how I would explain it, too. Thanks!
Yes, love it!!
Thanks!
Lovely
Wow! Love the King Arthur reference. I loved the book “The Sword in the Stone”! Awesome!!
Thank you for your enthusiastic comment!
A lovely retelling. Can feel the weight of history about to be laid on his shoulders.
I like that! Thank you.
The legend of King Arthur is one of my all time favorites, in all iterations, including this one 😉 Of course, the next thing that without fail pops into my head is always this: Listen, strange women lyin’ in ponds distributin’ swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.
Hahaha! Well, they’re quite right those Pythons 🙂
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