After the wedding: a fairy tale. Poems I have written #3

After the Wedding. A Fairy Tale. 

Rush lights and fire’s light

Shadow and shiver.

where the story teller sits.

on the edges of darkness.

 

During the wedding feast,

clatter and scrape 

battered by music 

the baron asking

his old friend the King.

 

This new son in law. 

Never heard of him.

Where’s the family from?

 

Somewhere…

Shouting to be heard

by the man beside him. 

…beyond the forest.

 

But you’ve given him your daughter!

 

I saw the way she looked at him,

I knew what happened next.

It’s better they were married.

 

But she’s had so many suitors.

Remember whatsisname.

Everything a father could want

In a son in law.

 

She wouldn’t even look at him.

This one was different.

He arrived, alone, 

asking for her hand.

He looked penniless 

so I sent him packing

But next day he returned 

with gifts, and the day after, 

and the day after,

each time with an escort

of the best appointed knights 

I’ve ever seen.

And she was smitten. Tonight 

they consummate the marriage:

tomorrow, he takes her to his kingdom.

 

You might never see her again.

That doesn’t bother you?

 

The old king shrugged; 

I’ve got a room full of gold. 

He didn’t ask me for her dowry.

 

2

 

After the music and dancing,

when the wedding guests 

were boisterous and drunk,

the lusty couple hurried to bed.

In the morning, rising early,

they met his escort at the gate

and rode towards the west.

 

The first night of their journey,

they found a clearing in the forest.

The escort made their bed,

beneath a gold embroidered canopy,

retiring to a respectable distance,

in a circle, facing outwards.

 

In the morning the girl awoke.

The silence was impressive.

There was no escort, just a circle 

of dead mushrooms,

and beside her on their bed, 

her beautiful young man was snoring.

 

He had aged a thousand years.

Opening his eyes on the glorious sight 

of his naked, smiling wife.

 

I am sorry that I tricked you.

But not for the days 

and nights we’ve shared

Now that you’ve seen me as I am…

He reached for the nearest weapon.

 

Stupid man, she said, 

stopping his hand. 

I’ve always known,

you had to be a fake.

 

An army made of mushrooms

gold from chrysanthemums 

can bribe my greedy father.

The only thing I trust

is the truth of our affection.

 

She kissed him and he was young again;

the mushrooms were their tactful escort

and they all lived happily ever after.

 

Rushlights and fire’s light

fading and dying

hiding the storyteller’s smile.

Based loosely on an event in the Welsh life of Saint Beuno, where the man is an artisan confused with a Prince. In Beuno's story the man kills the girl as they ride away after their wedding, and Bruno puts her head back on and brings her back to life. The transformative mushrooms are from the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogion. 

This is the third 'experiment' in story telling. It's a work in progress. 

The other two are here:

https://ladygodivaandme.blogspot.com/2024/01/kings-champion-ballad-of-sorts.html

and 

https://ladygodivaandme.blogspot.com/2024/01/taking-possession-story-of-norman.html