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Take your ships and your sailors,
to that island of the sky,
take them all to Avalon,
where the dreamers fly.

The gentle winds breeze,
the voice of a longing lover,
the want of a passing mother.
Take them all to Avalon.

The soul knows not hunger
when stopped in Avalon.
All the treats of the finer,
are common in Avalon.

When others see only sadness,
do not fall for their madness.
The light pours through the trees,
and the people know only glee.

A pristine paradise,
so tranquil and free of vice,
a home for heart and humor.
Bring all your friends to Avalon.

The grass grows glossy green,
the sky shines a cerulean sheen,
the stars sparkle in bright delight,
Avalon welcomes you tonight.

Our appeal is more than real,
so think well in passing for
when you come to Avalon,
you'll never care to leave.
Hannah Marr  May 2018
AVALON
Hannah Marr May 2018
I wish to travel to Avalon
that island wreathed in legend.
I wish to travel to Avalon
this yearning a stone in my chest.
I wish to travel to Avalon
with Arthur himself as my guide.
I wish to travel to Avalon
to have my wounds healed liked that great King's.
I wish to travel to Avalon
that birthplace of Excalibur.
I wish to travel to Avalon
so my soul might similarly be forged.
I wish to travel to Avalon
and task that place with my eternal rest.

h.f.m.
Poet do you recall when during days long done                      
Once when very young
You placed my scented kerchief beside
The small cross I always carried
On the wind we heard the clank of marching men
And the Tinkling of Bells
To my touch your armor was hot
Dust rose in great clouds and could be seen for miles
Unlike others your horse, fat from spring grass
Pranced and chaffed at the bit
So eager to leave, like you my Noble One
I rose to the promise of a kiss
But her lips were assaulted by your sweat and tears
You were violent
and that kiss
broke the strings and voice of my song
Now I no longer sing  
The Crusades are over the round table is empty   Women only sometimes dream of Gallant men                              
Weaving their fantasies through their poems and books
Funny thing though, the quest is very much alive and true
Recognized, known only to a few
And when meeting sometimes during that short passing
You can still hear Poet
The Tinkling of Bells
Enchantress speak to me and I will listen
Spin for me those golden words, so long departed, dark ages past
When truth was lost and light stopped burning
When reality was the sword and true love didn't matter
Birds were the only thing left singing and Camelot someones crazy dreaming
Stone tears, tolling of bells ringing in my ears
Left alone so many years and yet the vision
Is not lost nor the tears
What Cost?
Enchantress my heart was true what did I do?
Fingers falling on the frozen ground
His hair blood red, the face a frown, yet he's still allowed to see
He saw a door the light was shining as he sighed
As he moved alive into his dying
Deeds long spent flashed before his eyes of a lady in waiting
His lady of golden locks and of perfumed kerchief
His poet, spinner of words and song
Thoughts of two hearts beating yet as one
So far away he could not come
In a golden haze with divine grace the Goddess allows to see
To know at last a vision, no mercy, no innocent victim
A ribbon of moonlight covered the trees
He knelt by her alter
a knight on his knees
Pedals of roses crushed all around he remembers,  a promise broken
Of how he'd lost hope
A knowingness of what his life was and could have been
Again I remind you that truth had died, the Goddess she rested deep in slumber
Waiting the circle to complete
The knight knew then the Mothers name was nursed at her breast
And yet with no remorse betrayed her to follow the Quest
From his sword blood flowed in self righteous rage
And throughout all the land he cried, "the goddess is dead she died !"
Then as the vision fades with a jolt of pain so complete
He realises his true love, his  lady in waiting has died
Back on the frozen ground snow began to fall
He remembers how he'd hidden a locket deep in his pocket
Inside a trendle of golden hair plus an emrald so green
From the Isle of his dreams and the young maiden he'd left there

Still alive, alive with his dying to the goddess he screams
The locket still clenched tight in his hand
Now I know its heresy that men live only one life
One god one Christ guilt rides high a burden carried so long
Past all around, everyone can share, sin not someone else s duty to take away
Its our own responsibility, no innocence in the game we play
we write our own script
Earth a school house testing ground, We're actors in a play
Poet do you recall when during days long done
once when very young
Love is an open door listen to the whispering s of women
like we did before
The day the Goddess went to sleep all men died,
forgot how to embrace the Mother
Avalon lives I'll give you a clue there's nothing to do
,  you hold the key
It takes courage to be what you are. We've come so far, so many lifetimes
Traveling around passing each other on the wheel
Listen oh listen, can you hear the Tinkling of Bells

So my sweet Avalon
you who have the power to awaken in your dreams
Sing a new song you say
A tale not told, let the path create itself be bold
Now in this new day new age hearts are beginning to open
Twin Flames  together
Standing in their places of power
letting love in so it may flower
Following their own footsteps
not afraid of the fire
As a rule great power comes with dependence on each others fuel
Each receives a part of the other, that's
the golden rule
If you make Avalon your quest
I'll give you a clue
The magic of imagination is the surest tool
Use it wisely remember
that for every one who knocks the door will not open
Only Twin Flames hold the key
Love in it's purest form, the Token





www.thetinklingofbells.com
Richard Riddle Oct 2016
Ragged cliffs loom o'er the shore-
as waves punish the rocks below -
"Deafening",
is their roar..........

*A fleece, a blanket, of mist...and fog,
muffles the 'pleas'
From the 'sailing ships'.....
moored in the salty seas


Out from the mist...
alone.........she comes-
"A battle waits.... to be won"
says this maiden.....from Avalon


With arms outspread--
and opened palms.......
She 'chants'...for the sea to lie "still.... and calm"...
says the maiden.......from Avalon


"Oh God of Nature....of  all men -
I beseech thee..........
To shield these men of  gallantry".....
'Chants'...the maiden from Avalon


As she speaks.....
the waves subside.....silent, is their roar
The solar orb....no longer hides....
As the brave doth come ashore
.

Is it magic, myth, or simply......lore?
perhaps, a tale not told before-
But....... when all was said, and done......
"Blessed be the maiden"
.....

"From Avalon"

r.riddle- 10-29-2016
Willdaberry Blue Dec 2015
The forge of Avalon screams.
Spearing the depths of a dying king.
For legacy and blood have been discarded
upon battle fields of ash and dreams.
The forge of Avalon is howling.
Crafting the final crown,
With a Blood diamond for each loved one in the ground.
Richard Riddle Feb 2017
from October, 2016

Ragged cliffs loom o'er the shore-
as waves punish the rocks below -
"Deafening",
is their roar..........

A fleece, a blanket, of mist...and fog,
muffles the 'pleas'
From the 'sailing ships'.....
moored in the salty seas

Out from the mist...
alone.........she comes-
"A battle waits.... to be won"
says this maiden.....from Avalon

With arms outspread--
and opened palms.......
She 'chants'...for the sea to lie "still.... and calm"...
says the maiden.......from Avalon

"Oh God of Nature....of  all men -
I beseech thee..........
To shield these men of  gallantry".....
'Chants'...the maiden from Avalon

As she speaks.....
the waves subside.....silent, is their roar
The solar orb....no longer hides....
As the brave doth come ashore.

Is it magic, myth, or simply......lore?
perhaps, a tale not told before-
But....... when all was said, and done......
"Blessed be the maiden".....

"From Avalon"*

r.riddle- 10-29-2016
Gary Gibbens  Sep 2012
Avalon
Gary Gibbens Sep 2012
"where the air was never extreme, which for rain had a little silver dew, which of itself and without labour, bore all pleasant fruits"

After a weary journey
Our faith revealed
The Shining Isle

Where the wounded king was healed
Land of the undying
Their ancient glittering eyes all seeing
All foes long gone
Fear and worry undone
Graceful,quiet, deep browed
Long fingered hands
Stars and jewels chiming in silvered hair
As they walk those quiet paths

Over the water suddenly calm
We saw that glow
A light shining from the highest tower
The bells tolling from far away

Then with regret
Which made our throats clench with swallowed tears
We turned our hulls away
Back to the shadowed mortal land
Where the armies of the night
Struggle in unending battle
Broken plains strewn with bodies
Where the grey faceless men hold weapons
Dark with power

We always knew
Deep Down
This is the place
Where we belong
Where we belong

Avalon
I lived among great houses,
Riches drove out rank,
Base drove out the better blood,
And mind and body shrank.
No Oscar ruled the table,
But I'd a troop of friends
That knowing better talk had gone
Talked of odds and ends.
Some knew what ailed the world
But never said a thing,
So I have picked a better trade
And night and morning sing:
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.

Am I a great Lord Chancellor
That slept upon the Sack?
Commanding officer that tore
The khaki from his back?
Or am I de Valera,
Or the King of Greece,
Or the man that made the motors?
Ach, call me what you please!
Here's a Montenegrin lute,
And its old sole string
Makes me sweet music
And I delight to sing:
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.

With boys and girls about him.
With any sort of clothes,
With a hat out of fashion,
With Old patched shoes,
With a ragged bandit cloak,
With an eye like a hawk,
With a stiff straight back,
With a strutting turkey walk.
With a bag full of pennies,
With a monkey on a chain,
With a great ****'s feather,
With an old foul tune.
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.
I LIVED among great houses,
Riches drove out rank,
Base drove out the better blood,
And mind and body shrank.
No Oscar ruled the table,
But I'd a troop of friends
That knowing better talk had gone
Talked of odds and ends.
Some knew what ailed the world
But never said a thing,
So I have picked a better trade
And night and morning sing:
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.

Am I a great Lord Chancellor
That slept upon the Sack?
Commanding officer that tore
The khaki from his back?
Or am I de Valera,
Or the King of Greece,
Or the man that made the motors?
Ach, call me what you please!
Here's a Montenegrin lute,
And its old sole string
Makes me sweet music
And I delight to sing:
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.

With boys and girls about him.
With any sort of clothes,
With a hat out of fashion,
With Old patched shoes,
With a ragged bandit cloak,
With an eye like a hawk,
With a stiff straight back,
With a strutting turkey walk.
With a bag full of pennies,
With a monkey on a chain,
With a great ****'s feather,
With an old foul tune.
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.
Alan McClure  Mar 2011
The Door
Alan McClure Mar 2011
Imagine my disappointment when,
on discovering a tiny door
in a hollow tree,
locating its miniature key
beneath a buttercup,
unlocking and opening it

I found not a world of tiny folk
not Tir-nan-Og nor Avalon,
but a spectacled man in a white labcoat
holding a clipboard
and making notes on my reaction.

"Initial shock", he jotted,
"followed by anger and suspicion.
"Likely to require counselling
"within a year."

I closed the door as politely as I could
and went back to my books.
- From Also Available Free

— The End —