Another vaguely Arthurian poem popped into my mind the other day, and I thought it was worth bumping Philosopher Fridays this week to share it. I think it may need another stanza to give a better picture of their lives and revelries, but I’m still pondering that. I have a sneaking suspicion that another poem is coming – I have a mind to write about desperate courtiers.
In the dark, still places in the deep of the woods
Lay in wait thieves and bandits who live on travelers’ goods.
All that it takes is just one handsome carriage,
Well stocked with provisions for a long forest passage.
One carriage is all that these vagabonds need
To supply themselves fully for two months at least.
They’ll use what they steal to augment their home camp
And live off the food for as long as it lasts.
The rest of the treasures they would barter and trade,
And buy new supplies from the profits they made.
Then they’d return to their camps, where they’ll lie
In wait ’til another poor soul passes by.
