The Winter King

(Damh the Bard)

Just as it says, this song came to me whilst standing on the cliffs of Boscastle in Cornwall, overlooking the mighty Atlantic, feeling its power as the roar echoed around the cliffs. Within that sound you could almost hear a voice, telling the story of the Once and Future King.

Facing the west to a distant land,
Gazing out to the sea,
Standing on Cornwall’s rocky shore,
The crashing waves far below me,
I heard a woman calling my name,
Her voice the voice of a friend,
And she said, “Now hear me, I’m Morgan le Fey,
Let me tell you a story with no end.”

The life of a man, the life of a King,
The love for a Queen,
Pendragon of Britain,
Sovereign of the Land,
The mightiest warrior ever seen.
The Magic Sword in his hand,
Like lightning, cut through the air.
A gift of the Goddess,
Lady of the Lake,
To Valiant Arthur, the Bear.

In the heart of Dumnonia stands a tower,
An Isle on a sea of glass.
Where Merlin planned the Old Gods of the Land,
Would return to Britain at last.
Twelve of the Thirteen Treasures were there,
Clyddno Eiddin’s Cauldron the quest,
On Prydwen they sailed,
Into the Otherworld,
None but seven returned from the west.

Facing the west to a distant land gazing over the sea,
Standing on Cornwall’s rocky shore,
The Crashing waves far below me,
I see a ship disappear in the mist,
That shines like silver and bronze,
Carrying the body of the Wounded King,
To be healed in Avalon.