Having just finished reading another Arthurian fantasy, this time Gwenhwyfar by Mercedes Lackey. I went looking for a poem to post and ran across this one I wrote in 04. I know quite well I have a weakness for a well-written story with fantasy being one of my favorite genres.


Its getting crowded in here.
Move over Arthur and Guinevere.
Prince Charming, take Sleeping Beauty
and her best friend Cinderella
out tonight somewhere, anywhere.

Its like I haven’t room to think my own thoughts
with you all shoving around in my head.
Distracting me with all your impossible plots.
Sorry Frodo and Bilbo.
Even hobbits take up blocks of gray matter.
Scrooge, Tiny Tim wants to go out
and build a snowman.

Emma, Elizabeth, Anne— all Jane’s heroines
it’s time for tea, but not with me.
I’‘m tearing up the pages of the books
left scattered in my mind
and filing them just outside the door.
I need a little more breathing space
for Love, Hope, Faith and Grace
to have their way with me.

c.2004 Darlene Moore Berg


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