. Visiting the Ruins of Tintagel Castle I wander through a forest deep __in Cornish countryside And think I see some elves asleep __And giants run to hide. The branches gnarled like magic wands, __Green velvet moss on trees, The ivy cloaks around the ponds, __Soft rocks bejewel the streams. I wander further out to where __The hedges wall the roads; The open hills go rolling there __As on the tongue roll odes. Then smash the ocean hits the land __And pounds upon the coast; I see a battle vast expands __And shakes my earthly post. The Force of Man stands tall and proud __Filled up with stubborn rock, Draped in a grassy battle shroud, __O’er eons, taking stock. The Force of Nature peers right back, __So endless, flat, and deep. An earthquake or a tidal attack __May make Man’s fatal sleep. What’s speckled on the battlefield __Midst stairways, bridges, paths? The people small try not to yield __To war’s long grinding wrath. They’re pushing onward on their way __With virtue in their hearts, Creating beauty every day, __Each waking, playing parts. Gray castle like gray rock outcrops, __Confronting timeless sea, Here, perched upon green mountain top, __King Arthur came to be. . . On the Launch of Cathay au Lait Flush flowers: roses, lilies, orchids on The flowing fabric patterned delicate, Its wearer casts her knowing gaze upon The tea from which rich fragrances emit, Then lifts her crystal eyes with subtlety, Suggesting that you join these splendid folk: In dress as much in mind nobility, Like figures whom grand tales have often spoke. She calls you there to join their teatime spot: A leafy outlook over rolling hills— That view! Familiar yet the name is not, A mem’ry hidden by her dress’s frills. ____She turns and pours something into your tea, ____Says, “Cathay au lait,” and motions to the sea. . . Early Experiences Doing Falun Dafa Meditation I’d like to tell you that it feels serene, But it does not, as all your thoughts in knots Of sweet desires, mean fires, anything but clean, Now tie you down defenseless to that spot. And then a gamut of strange scenarios Like contrived scenes onstage you wish would end Play out before your eyes, which you can’t close… When actors spent, who look like you, descend, Your force of thought has weakened all the knots So that the fetters easily fall off And you float up through waves of glowing dots, Your problems small, your majesty aloft. These last ten seconds of the hour sit Transform a year of mental sludge to grit. . . A Limerick On reading Darwinian Fairytales by David Stove There once was a ninny named Darwin, A scientist but more like a charlatan; He said "Man was made Without Godly aid--- Believe then your sins I will pardon!" . . Evan Mantyk teaches history and literature in the Hudson Valley region of New York.