<\/p>\n
\n I<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
With wonder I recall the day we met
\nThree years ago on eerie Salisbury Plain,
\nWhen you yourself delivered to the set
\nYour Highland cattle in the pelting rain.
\nWhile you dismounted from the battered truck
\nYou\u2019d driven down the treacherous, muddy trail,
\nMy heart your gaze like Cupid\u2019s arrow struck \u2013
\nTransfixed I was, as in a fairy tale.
\nDoubtless, the irony I realized:
\nThat such an English countess should appear
\nAmong the phoney business which comprised
\nCreation of the movie Guinevere<\/em>.
\n++<\/span>And yet my wife, King Arthur\u2019s queen, was fierce
\n++<\/span>When saw she me, Sir Lancelot, you pierce.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n II<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
For many actors based in Hollywood
\nFidelity to spouse is not the norm;
\nBut, as regards myself, I feel I should
\nThe reason for disloyalty you inform.
\nIn short, the so-called simulated sex \u2013
\nMore manifest with each successive role
\nMy wife performed \u2013 would me in secret vex:
\nCertain I was she\u2019d sold her precious soul.
\nWith this I coped by offering for free
\nMy body to those women keen to take,
\nWhile hoping, all the while, the light she\u2019d see
\nAnd so such shady stardom quite forsake.
\n++<\/span>Thus, long before we got to Salisbury Plain,
\n++<\/span>I\u2019d served the queen\u2019s two rivals, called Elaine.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n III<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
I was of course but quipping, when I said
\nI\u2019d like to see your famous green estate:
\nThe primal wood I pictured was your bed,
\nWhere we our fertile plot would consummate.
\nHappy you were, when I at once agreed
\nThat plowing with horse and share should give a man,
\nAlong with sowing naturally his seed,
\nA satisfaction few endeavors can.
\nImagine my ineffable delight,
\nThe day you called me furtively to come:
\nYour husband was in Muckton for the night;
\nI\u2019d taste your sweet organic pear and plum.
\n++<\/span>Sir Lancelot, it seemed, could hardly fail
\n++<\/span>To pluck the cup of foison \u2013 Holy Grail.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n IV<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Now, whether you intended me to mock,
\nOr with another cunningly contrived,
\nOr felt I most required a sudden shock,
\nOr simply lost your nerve when I arrived,
\nNeedless to say I thought myself betrayed,
\nOn finding out that your idea of fun
\nWas spreading, singly, compost you had made
\nBeneath the cold, evasive English sun.
\nThus, far from sowing wild organic oats
\nAnd sharing with sweet Eve forbidden fruit,
\nI spent the day with rancid billy goats;
\nThe night, alone, in homespun sheets of jute.
\n++<\/span>Before I left, I heard you someone ring
\n++<\/span>And brag you\u2019d just unseated Edward King.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n V<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Your words, bewitching countess, me unhinged:
\nIt seemed the force of life within had gone;
\nI felt you had my very soul infringed \u2013
\nThe light it ere released no longer shone.
\nThat night, when filming was at last complete,
\nTo weird Stonehenge on foot I made my way;
\nWe\u2019d shot there Merlin\u2019s monumental feat:
\nMaybe to his great solar god I\u2019d pray.
\nAlas, at length in darkness I was lost,
\nThe clouds obscured the radiant stars and moon;
\nA swath of ghostly Salisbury Plain I crossed,
\nImagining that Death would meet me soon.
\n++<\/span>At twelve o\u2019clock, while wading through a mire,
\n++<\/span>Bombarded all at once I was with fire.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n VI<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
It didn\u2019t take me long to understand
\nI couldn\u2019t blame Apollo for this blitz:
\nThe army, I remembered, owns the land
\nAnd foolishly against it crimes commits.
\nJust when I thought I\u2019d drawn my final breath,
\nA fox appeared before me in a flash;
\nLike in some fable she delivered me from Death,
\nBy demonstrating where I had to dash.
\nSo now you know why I have since become
\nNot only a devout ecologist
\nBut also, to the discontent of some,
\nA Gandhi-oriented pacifist.
\n++<\/span>No matter what your aim, O faithful wife,
\n++<\/span>You helped me redirect my wayward life.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n VII<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Perhaps I also should you now inform
\nMy own true wife and I indeed are one;
\nShe too has fled the unrelenting storm
\nOf showbiz \u2013 bringing forth instead a son.
\nLike yours, green gardening is her special joy:
\nFor almost three years waged amid the fight
\nAgainst the companies which still employ
\nThose practices that deepen the earth\u2019s plight.
\nFirmly she sues the unenlightened Bush
\nTo combat global warming, bid for peace \u2013
\nBefore the swollen oceans surely push
\nUs from our coasts, and terror strikes increase.
\n++<\/span>In sum this heroine, I hold so dear,
\n++<\/span>Has shunned the tragic fate of Guinevere.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\n\n\n\nJerusalem
\n3 October 2007<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"I With wonder I recall the day we met Three years ago on eerie Salisbury Plain, When you yourself delivered to the set Your Highland cattle in the pelting rain. While you dismounted from the battered truck You\u2019d driven down the treacherous, muddy trail, My heart your gaze like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/453"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=453"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/453\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2618,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/453\/revisions\/2618"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=453"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=453"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=453"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}