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Date Written: October 15, 2017

Through the mists of Avalon; guarding King Arthurs tomb

a great white gleaming, scaly beast; ever watchful not to roam.

Bright blue eyes pierce the distance; wary of mere mortals

straying near, at dusk or dawn, to enter this otherworld portal.


His is old, but don’t be fooled; his strength belies his age

but wise is he beyond his years; he will not attack in rage.

Do not fear; he will not hurt those that wish no harm

for them that come to revere; he will be still and calm


But woe to them of nefarious heart that come to raze and plunder

fierce the wrath of righteousness; they will rue their blunder.

Fiery breath and roar of thunder; their first and final warning

sudden flight in talons sharp; they drop as stones to death by drowning.


His duty done; he returns to roost among the crags so high

he settles down, but does not sleep; the grave he keeps, nearby.

His eternal rest will come; when a new sentinel alights this shore

as wise and strong as he has been; King Arthurs tomb is safe once more.



Written by Siona Robertson

ÓCopyright 2016

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Siona Robertson

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