‘A Horse’s Tale: King Arthur’s Great Steed’: A Poem by Davis Saunders

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A Horse’s Tale: King Arthur’s Great Steed

The horse known for bearing the greatest of kings—
Proud Thor was considered the worthiest horse;
Such that if all horses had voices to sing,
They’d sing all their praises in honor of Thor.
But horses can’t sing and only can neigh,
So I shall be telling his tale today.

It started way back, a long, long time since,
For still, at that time, King Arthur was prince.
And he sought a horse on which he could ride
Around all the grounds and through all the trees,
But there in the stable, he was surprised
To find just one horse—And who might it be
But our mighty Thor. For at the behest
Of the King, all the horses went out on a quest,
Except the great Thor, who rejected his mount.
What happened when Lancelot tried, I recount:

Moving at a horse’s trot,
The horse went up to Lancelot,
And as a horse, as horses ought,
The horse, he had a horse’s thought:
Sir Lancelot, you rise above them all,
And with your valiant stature, touch the sky,
But from that highest height are doomed to fall;
I think I have an inkling as to why:
For though you have a noble courtesy,
The noblest knights have names that start with G.

If I were he, I’d rather have,
A name like good Sir Galahad,
Indeed, he might have been a saint;
If he’d been christened as Geraint,
Or Gaheris had been his name,
Or maybe Gareth or Gawain,
Perhaps he would not then have smeared
The honor of his Guinevere.

Sir Lancelot heard only whinnies and neighs,
But by these he gathered that he’d been refused
By our Thor, who’d given his answer as “nay.”
So, off went the hunt. Without Thor, it ensued.

By that decision, Prince Arthur was able
To ride only Thor, the last in the stable;
He mounted the saddle, clicking his spurs,
And suddenly Thor was off in a blur!
Never had Arthur e’er ridden so fast,
It took all his might not to fall on the grass!
They rode on for hours and miles without count,
Prince Arthur the Brave and his mighty mount.
Unknown to them, they drew near the den,
The lair, the cave, of the absolute worst
Witch in the realm—the vile Vivian,
Who, in disguise, was sat high on her horse.

Her horse was a mare, a beautiful mare,
And Thor fell in love and could do nothing but stare.
He felt his jaw drop and his eye sockets pop,
He caught himself staring; unable to stop,
Moved closer to her, for what would be worse,
Than being away from that beautiful horse.
Indeed, what a horse! From tail to nose,
Perfect in form and without any clothes,
Which is normal, of course, imagine she wore
A pretty pink dress and was further adorned
With bows and braids and to make it complete,
With makeup and jewels, high heels on her feet,
Or rather, her hooves, if I’m speaking right,
For if she had feet, what a horrible sight!

Just like his horse, Arthur found himself smitten,
For unknown to them, the witch cast a spell,
One which the grand wizard Merlin had written.
And by its decree the great Arthur fell
Completely in love with that witch on her horse,
Compelled and entranced by her magical force.

The witch said to him, casting her spell,
“Humbly, I ask that you would give to me,
Swearing in proof by the forests and dells,
By Camelot’s lands and its borders and seas,
That, to your servant, you’ll bestow this reward:
The honor of holding a place in your court.”

And Arthur replied, his heart beating fast,
“Whatever you wish, love, you need only ask.”

The witch, then emboldened, further inquired,
“When you become king of this glorious land,
Can you promise to me by the heavens above,
And by the bright stars that outnumber the sands,
When all of the laws are yours to decide,
You’ll grant me the power to rule at your side?”

And Arthur then said, “By my love that’s true,
All that and more will be given to you.”
Then Vivian said with nefarious grin,
“Just one more thing, do I humbly request,
By all the Lord’s armies and angels therein,
And by all the martyrs and saints and the rest,
Promise me just this last thing as my own:
That I may be seated on Camelot’s throne.”

‘Ere Arthur could answer (assenting of course),
He was bucked from the saddle and thrown off his horse!
A crash and a thump were the sounds when he fell,
Hitting his head and breaking the spell!
He rose up in anger, to Vivian said,
“Begone from this kingdom, ne’er to return,
And leave us in haste for the price is your head!
The only thing good for a witch is to burn!”

With a scowl and a glare, a curse and a scoff,
The wretched witch Vivian, fleeing, took off!
But not at a gallop and not at a trot,
For her horse, deciding she liked Camelot,
Had refused to join as her old master fled,
Choosing to stay with Prince Arthur instead.

So Arthur returned, back to his round table,
Not one, but two horses, now in the stable;
The second, the mare, in time did love Thor.
Their story, however, I cannot relate,
For that which two horses will do behind doors
Isn’t business of mine, nor concern of the state.

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Davis Saunders is a student at Texas A&M University pursuing a degree in physics and a future career in the United States Air Force.