Gawain
November 2018
a dragon waits…
There was a long dark forest,
wicked woods, wild, wind-blown and whistling woods,
Where twirling leaves trembled on tall, terrifying trees,
With treacherous twigs to tempt you to a terrible fate
We are having a wintry Gawain and the Green Knight season this month
wooden spoon royalty
a new friend, or a new foe?
The Sir Gawain project saw a lively and successful weekend. There was painting, a new artwork from Sue Prince (with mass community participation, paintbrushes and pennies), walks, talks and excitements from Clive Foden, and some 40 people, and more, joining us (Stone and Water, Creeping Toad, and Sarah Males) on Saturday to make a cast of medieval characters on wooden spoons at the Foxlowe Arts Centre in Leek
I am also working with the children of St Bartholomew’s C of E Primary School, Longnor, and Manifold C of E Academy, Warslow, to write the further adventures of Gawain. These are taking shape in exciting and unpredictable ways and now we are making puppets to animate our narrative poems….
But the long road home was waiting
A perilous path through the wild wastes
Where a wild wood grew over the hilltops
Through the dales
There were terribly twisty trees
Where owls rested on the branches
And wary wolves watched from the shade
There were robbers in those woods
But fighting fierce foxes and
Struggling bravely to battle big, bad badgers
Gawain finally made it through the fierce forest
(Manifold)
enchanted forest
Through the woods in safety
Gawain stopped by a cool, relaxing pool,
The home,
But he did not know it
Of mysterious mermaids,
secretive mermaids
Who can sing, or scream, as loud as trumpets
Mean as monsters
Swift as snakes,
With claws as sharp as sharks’ teeth
They would drag you down, down to the depths
Down to your drowned death
the Mermaid Pool at Blakemere
And of those mermaids there was one
Who had once asked the fairies of the forest
For a friendly favour, a wild and wonderful wish,
To become the most mysterious, the most marvelous,
The most powerful mermaid,
Ever
Gawain rested by the water,
trailing his tired toes in
The cool refreshing water
When he felt a tug on his leg,
A hand pulling him into the dark water,
And down, down, down….
(Longnor)
So many people to thank here – all those artists, puppeteers and poets and Borderland Voices who are coordinating my Gawain workshops in the schools
