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A SICK DREAM

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Camelot Garden (one-shot)

There she weaves by night and dayA magic web with colours gay.She has heard a whisper say,A curse is on her if she stayTo look down to Camelot.But in her web she still delightsTo weave the mirrorââ?¬â?¢s magic sights:A funeral, with plumes and lightsAnd music, came from Camelot.ââ?¬Å?I am half-sick of shadows,ââ?¬Â saidThe Lady of Shalott.ââ?¬Å?Tirra lirra, tirra lirra,ââ?¬ÂSang Sir Lancelot.She left the web: she left the loom:She looked down to Camelot.

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Chapter 1 Feb 11, 2011