Philip Dodd Poems
|3.||Searching For The Sangreal||6/12/2015|
|4.||Windmill And Rainbow||6/12/2015|
|6.||Her Piano Tune||6/19/2015|
|7.||The Memories You Save||7/28/2015|
|9.||Still The Dawn||10/21/2015|
|10.||Lullaby For Bethlehem||12/22/2015|
|15.||No Shelter For A Sparrow||6/12/2015|
|16.||Lines On The Four Hundredth Anniversary Of The Death Of William Shakespeare||4/26/2016|
|17.||Isle Of Apples||6/27/2016|
Comments about Philip Dodd
Isle Of Apples
The Round Table is broken,
to divide this green island, Britain.
Now I must obey the last words of Merlyn.
Take Excalibur, the sword of Arthur,
that I alone could draw from the stone,
down to the edge of yonder mere,
Sir Bedivere, and throw it out on the water,
as far as your strength can,
to be your last deed for me,
as my faithful knight, a true courageous man.
Prepare in your grief to see a wonder,
as the Lady of Faerie takes my sword
away to her land.
Mordred is dead who came against me,
to take my crown and throne.
He lies with pale ...
Welsh wizards, Math and Gwydyon
conspired together, met in a wood,
to form a woman out of flowers,
petals of oak, broom, meadowsweet,
so she woke, more fair than spring
song of birds when leaves
drip and shine with showers.
Later, Gwydyon regretted the act,