Guinevere by Catherine Blackfeather

A lovely ballad about a classic English folktale. Really enjoyable.

Three Drops from a Cauldron

Guinevere

I went and found a magic sword
And cast it in the water.
A Lady rose and came to me,
She sang and called me daughter.
I walk the world and still I feel
Her hand upon my brow.
The gift she gave of truthful speech
Is with me ever now.

I found a King on wounded bed,
His pain a blight upon his Land.
They took his blood and poured it out
A piercing lance in their fair hands.
They ringed him round and held him there
And praised his hoary crownéd head.
But shadows walked in his fair realm
Because his soul was dead.

I placed him on a floating craft.
It floated on the mere.
The darkest depths his line did plumb,
His hand trembling with fear.
But piece by piece his armour rose,
Fished from the glimmering waves.
Washed in tears, they made him whole,

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