The play is over, that is true,
But I have plans for all of you.
The story true now must be told,
The tale of Guinevere the bold.
Her reputation did precede her:
The rumour mill works fast at court,
But knights, though grudgingly, could not
Dispense with such a skilful leader.
To her protection duly thronged
Barons of England and beyond.
Within three years she was, no lies,
The sovereign of the British Isles.
She ruled with such charm and devotion,
Brexit was not even an option.
As for Sir Lanval, in this story
Her proud heart soon forgot its quarry.
As for the knights, they felt just fine
As long as there was food and wine.
To Tryamour now let us turn,
A gentle lady nobly born.
She was not arrogant enough
To just blind people for a laugh,
And could, without undue denial,
Appreciate a worthy rival.
She often dined after it all
In Guinevere’s illustrious hall.
Dame Tryamour, when not at court,
Took gardening as her sport.
She grew such gorgeous aubergines
The like of which had not been seen
Since Eve in Eden toiled.
In making jams she reigned supreme,
And Lanval often could be seen
Snacking upon the spoils.
A keen observer could espy
Geoff watching from some hidden place
With doleful eyes and amorous sighs
As Lanval duly stuffed his face.
What then of our eponymous knight?
You’d think his life was pure delight,
But he, though popular with chicks,
Was not a fan of politics.
He turned his steps to Tryamour
And spoke to her with heavy heart,
“As much as we’ve been close before,
My dear, it’s better that we part.
Whatever fire my chest did hold
Had these past years gone grey and cold.
Tryamour smiled and answered him,
“We did not know each other then.
A decent tumble in the hay
A year ago, held far more sway
Than it does now. And I admit
We are far from a perfect fit,”
Encouraged by her words, the knight
Sprang up and spoke with great delight,
“I would be happy, but, my dear,
You let me joust just once a year!
I languish here in your fine bower
Among crochet, pastries and flowers,
And equally in your high court
I feel that I am welcome not.
In any case, I wish to journey
Abroad, and with brave knights to tourney,
And camp beneath the open sky.
I’ll go anon. Keep safe. Goodbye!”
Thus, once again Lanval rode forth
With Geoffrey and a handsome horse.
And it befell one autumn night
Bad weather caught them in their search
For eligible knights to fight
And they took shelter in a church.
They were exhausted from their voyage
And Geoff finally plucked up his courage
To say the words long overdue,
“Lanval, I have a thing for you.”
But I’ll omit graphic depictions
Because this isn’t slash fanfiction.
In all, it should suffice to say –
In Lanval, everyone is gay.
So, Geoffrey and his handsome knight
Have yet to brave many a fight;
They’ll venture through both thick and thin,
And my tale ends as theirs begins.
I hope this ending pleases you,
And now, adieu, adieu, adieu.
Photo credit: Skye McAlpine Walker