A Poem in Excerpts From the Middle Ages to Today
A History of Christian Art in Decoupage
Childe Rowland to the dark tower came.
My Lord Cid Don Rodrigo
Straight for the gateway made.
And they that held it when they saw
That swift attack begin fled in great fear.
Unto the foot of the tower we came at last.
Then came Arthur out of his tower
And had under his gown a jesseraunt
Of double mail, and went with him
The Archbishop of Canterbury.
Lo! Yonder is (said she) the brazen tower!
Those are not giants, they are windmills.
Before that ruin came, for centuries
Tough men-at-arms, cross-gartered to the knees
Or shod in iron, climbed the narrow stairs.
That night three unsuccessful bombing attacks
Were made on the Tower at Wancourt.
I am waiting for Childe Roland to come
To the final darkest tower.
And I am waiting for Aphrodite.