MERLYN'S CAVE

Standing here,

in front of the entrance

to Merlyn's Cave

on Tintagel beach.

Midnight, deserted.

Noisy, intrusive tourists

are long gone.

An eerie silence, broken only

by continual crashing

of mighty Atlantic waves

onto jagged rocky outcrops.

Stepping into the darkness,

leaving protective glow

of full moon outside.

Moving slowly, cautious

of slippery rocks

underfoot.

Cold penetrates

right to the bone here.

Dripping sounds

echo spookily

around ancient sea-sculpted walls.

A sudden movement.

Startling.

Holding my breath,

listening intently.

Shivering in the clammy

atmosphere.

Silence.

I'm unnerved.

Feel like retracing my steps,

escaping to the safety

of moonlit beach outside.

But a strange impulse

draws me onward.

It's as though my feet

have a will of their own.

So I'm led ever deeper

into the dank interior

of the Earth's bowels.

Peculiar whispering

surrounds me on all sides.

I'm convinced

there's someone in here with me.

'Hello,' I call out,

trying to sound much more confident

than I feel.

No reply,

just the returning echo

of my own voice.

But the whispering

abruptly ceases.

I'm approaching the far end

of the cave now.

I can see the Moon's reflection

in rippling water

through a narrow aperture.

A dark figure passes swiftly

from left to right

just a few feet

in front of me.

'Hello,' I call out again.

Still no answer.

Intrigue competes with fear

as I grope my way forward

to the exact spot

where I just lost sight

of the shadowy form.

There's nothing here

but solid rock wall.

I've never moved so fast

in my entire life!

Impervious to the slippery floor,

cracking shins on stone,

splashing knee-deep in rock pools,

I scramble to the relative security

of silver streaked

sandy beach.

Catching my breath,

I'm compelled to turn

and make sure

I'm not being followed.

There,

in the shadow

of gigantic Tintagel Head above,

stands that same figure,

motionless,

watching me.

'Who are you?' I call out,

as much in frustration

as any other emotion.

'I am Merlyn!'

a deep voice replies.

I blink

and the beach is deserted. 



This face appeared on the wall in my hall just after this experience.

It is no longer there, but continues to periodically re-appear in the

condensation on my bathroom mirror.

I can find no rational explanation.

SURVIVAL

A memory of being nineteen

You told me you loved me once,
in the very beginning
and I believed you
and was happy.

But then you said
I wasn't beautiful enough.
You weren't keen on my hair
because it wasn't black,
and my green eyes
were too pale for your taste.

So I dyed my hair
and used brown contact lenses,
and hoped you would
love me again.

But you said
that at four-feet-ten
I wasn't tall enough.
Well,
I couldn't do much
about that, except
teeter around on six-inch heels.

Then you said
my conversation was boring.
So I tried to think up
witty things to say.
But all that did
was annoy you.

You said
I wasn't sexy enough
in the bedroom.
So I bought lacy undies,
black stockings and suspenders.
But you said
I looked ridiculous
and I believed you,
so accepted all my faults.

Then I asked
why you stayed with me
if you found me
so repugnant,
and you replied that I
relieved your boredom
until someone better
came along.

Yet, still I stayed
because I loved you
and hoped you would change.
But you never did.

And when I finally had the courage
to tear myself away,
you said
I was weak and pathetic
and would never survive
without you.

Yet here I am today......

VANDALS

Why do vandals have to smash

Everything in sight?

And why do they do drugs and drink

Then go looking for a fight?

I suppose they think they're really tough

Intimidating us,

But I'm sure they're aware most passers-by

Are unlikely to make a fuss.

When they're in their marauding gangs

They think they rule the World,

Lording it over everyone

With baseball bats fast-twirled.

They kick our garden gate and throw

Beer bottles over our wall,

Then trash our car with an iron bar

Before attacking the shopping mall.

They shriek and whoop with wild delight

While racing a stolen car,

Then set it alight before running away

Like the cowards they really are.

For when you see one all alone

He'll swiftly pass you by,

With head down and hoodie over

In case you catch his eye.

His power, it seems, has deserted him

With the mass testosterone.

His voice is almost a whisper now

As he answers his mobile phone.

His sunken eyes have a vacant look

As there's nothing much within,

For the little intelligence he once had

Has been lost to cocaine and gin.

He'd be shocked to see himself

The way others do,

As the scourge of society

Respected by so few.

And what will happen when he has

Children of his own?

Will they be raised to mutilate

This land on which they've grown?

So heed this tale as a warning if

Like him, you're so weak and afraid

That you have to hide behind a brutish mob

For your life will soon degrade.

DREAMS

or NIGHTMARES?