The Vision of the Lady of the Lake

The boatman arose to the sound of his heartbeat,
Loud in the silent approach of the dawn.
He glanced through the window at the mist on the lake
Which hung like a shroud in the still of the morn.
The silver cobwebs swung with the dew,
And hung from the bushes in filigree splendor.
And  water lilies asleep on the lake
Were reflected so delicate, tranquil and tender.
The boatman sighed as he strolled through the woods
To a place where his boat lay moored to a stake.
The hollow sound of his footsteps echoed,
Until the sound was lost on the lake.
He cast off holding his boat from the shore,
And peering ahead through the damp, clinging haze;
He though that he saw strange swirling shapes,
A trick on the eyes that a mist often plays.
So intent was the boatman on crossing the lake,
That he failed to notice the current that flowed;
Leading his boat from familiar paths,
He was firmly, yet somehow unknowingly towed.
All at once the mist seemed to lift,
Sufficient to show the boatman a pool,
That he's never seen in the whole of his life;
Unnaturally deep and silent and cool.
The boatman's shirt clung to his back.
He was sweating both with exertion and fear.
He had the sensation that someone was watching;
He felt the presence of somebody near.
An invisible force prevented him moving;
The strength of his arms was utterly sapped.
The twisted bushes converged round the pool;
Like a fish in a net, he was trapped.
Suddenly, out of the watery void,
A wraith-like form af a maiden appeared;
Forming and shimmering, a radiant rose,
The maiden materialized as she neared.
The hair which finally crowned her head,
Was a halo of gold, reflecting the sun.
All the beautiful women of time,
Were formed all at once, into one.
She handed the boatman the sword she was holding,
Which flashed iridescent before his eyes.
Excalibur surely was hardly a match,
For a sword , that simple description defies.
The boatman stood transfixed by her gaze,
Which reached to the depths of his very soul.
To he that could conquer the evils of sin,
She offered herself as a whole.
The maiden vanished before his gaze,
Leaving him clutching the sword in his fist.
The hairs on the nape of his neck seemed to stiffen;
A creature approached him from out of the mist.
It was powerful, huge and yet stupid indeed,
For it held right back and failed to attack.
The boatman struck at its small, stupid eyes,
And it crashed to the ground and lay on its back.
Out of the morning, the sky seemed to blacken,
As though the sun was in total eclipse.
The boatman crouched low, as a vast eagle swooped.
A horrified cry escaped from his lips.
It strutted before him with pride in its bearing,
Admiring its talons both viscious and cruel.
Taking advantage the boatman struck fast,
And the eagle slid to the depths of the pool.
The terrified boatman tried moving his boat,
But his boat had grown roots in the watery deep.
The roots grew alive with the coils of a snake,
And all he could hear was it's slither and creep.
It cast an envious stare at the boatman;
Slid into the water and swam to boat.
He stood hypnotized by its green, jealous eyes;
And it came from the water, and coiled round his throat.
Its coils tightened slowly, his breath came in gasps.
As he choked he lifted his sword in his hand.
As the snake was still gloating, he severed its head;
And, in death, the snakes coils smashed wild in the air.
The boatman wiped the sweat from his brow.
His heart was pounding as never before.
His eyes, like a lizard's swung darted around,
Not daring to rest for a second or more.
An involuntary shiver went up his spine,
As he heard the sound of eerie howls.
A wolf appeared on the banks of the pool,
Saliva dripped from its loathsome jowls.
Hatred smoldered deep in its eyes,
Which glowed like coals from Hades' fire.
It seemed to grow as it crouched and growled;
And watched as the boatman began to tire.
It was almost as though the wolf had learned,
For it did not attack as the others had done,
But biding its time until the moment was right,
Then sprang as the boatman stared into the sound.
But the boatman, too, had learned to hold back,
And holding his sword, as though a knife;
He plunged it deep into the wolf's heart,
Then fell to his knees and prayed for his life.
As he felt a hand on his shoulder, he whirled,
To find the maiden by his side.
She smiled, and the world seem to open before him;
He tried to speak, but his tongue was tied.
"You must plunge the sword deep into my heart,
Lest I should crumble into dust."
She offered the boatman the meaning of life,
And love, if he could but conquer lust.
She bared her breast before his eyes.
The boatman still was stricken dumb.
He flung the sword back into the water,
Back to the depths from which it had come.
The water around him began to boil;
The maiden began to wither away.
His boat was swamped as the creatures arose,
And evil lived, for another day.