Yard Sale of Thoughts

She penned her first dragon under the age of ten.
A learned mathematician,
she woke sleeping kings 
stole their scabbards
and stabbed them afterwards,
offering others respite in her golden bed.

From the isle of Avalon,
she controlled the seas by incantation.
As governor of the waves,
she drew a magical ring of protection
about her blessed brother's head.

Some said she the wisest woman in the land.
The animals were here messengers,
the roots of the earth, 
as familiar to her
as the lines of her hands,
by which the sick were fed.

With skin softer than millet,
she touched a wound to heal it,
and took what she wanted,
if not, she would steal it, 
or so the bitter stories said.

Her fingers both fire and dew,
she had the power to pursue
any man she wanted,
and if he withdrew,
court, drug, and enchant him
to her crystal cavern.

With poison mantle, she'd fly 
from the apple isle,
the most feared woman in flight,
master of the seven arts,
a trifold enchantress.

But they all knew she was savior,
angel, astronomer,
despite her sometimes bad behavior.
she was the emerald in the stone,
and her throne dwells forever  
in the hero's soul.

Give her hand a hold
when you enter that final boat.
Legacy cannot be burnt away.
The goddess, Morgan La Fay.

©2024 | K.F. Hartless

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Cover Art: Morgan Le Fay by John R. Spencer Stanhope (1880)

Today’s prompt was to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.” American tall tales feature larger-than-life characters like Paul Bunyan (who is literally larger than life), Bulltop Stormalong (also gigantic), and Pecos Bill (apparently normal-sized, but he doesn’t let it slow him down). I really outdid myself today folks, let’s be honest. Or maybe a little of Morgana’s ego is rubbing off on me? I do hope so.

Happy Friday!