From babe to boy. From boy to man
Arthur embarks on his lifespan.
Inside the hall the fosterling
Is unaware he will be king.
But Merlin, with observant eyes
Keeps a close watch in worn disguise
To keep King Uther in the dark:
Whose murderous, jealous wrath would spark
Into a blaze of bloody rage
Of killing and gory rampage.
So Merlin’s lips are firmly shut.
Arthur life remains safe. But
One slip! Assassins would arrive
From Uther commissioned to rive
The life from out poor Arthur’s corpse.
As chanced to poor Gorlois, perforce.
As Merlin watches, while he waits
He thinks. And thinking – hesitates:
Debating what he should reveal
To Arthur – when his lips unseal
His birth, his lineage, destiny –
Not yet. But soon perhaps. Maybe.
As Arthur grows into a man
He learns of knighthood best he can.
By day, his lessons by the bell.
He studies hard – and learns them well.
His tutors his quick mind well-led.
Including Merlin’s self, ’tis said.
Howsobeit, young Arthur learned
And mental work he never spurned.
Nor did he fail learning to fight
As well as any armoured knight.
Igraine is dead. Uther yet lives
Awhile. His future Merlin gives
A little longer to prepare.
And then his fosterling must fare
Into the world, fostered no more
To walk the road Fate has in store.
So Merlin watches. Merlin waits.
Entrusting to the threesome Fates
When Uther dies – aha! Till then
Arthur is hid from eyes of men.