The Roses of Guinevere

"a play about the tragedy of innocence lost"


A candlelit prayer chapel in an ancient stone abbey.  A vase of white roses is sitting on a rough hewn wooden table, highlighted as if by moonlight coming through an open window.  A nun enters dressed in plain white habit.

GUINEVERE:  (in the attitude of prayer)

My Lord, why has my soul been wounded so,

my spirit bleeds its endless tears,

such agony of heart is all I know,

even in these fading, distant years.


My Lord, my soul doth feel as candle wax,

melting softly, slowly, beneath the flame,

my being burns as woven flax,

as I call upon your Mercy's name.


Oh, why, oh, why, must sweet love,

bring such weeping to my breast,

it once was joy, a gentle dove,

but now in sorrows, my joy is dressed.


(from offstage, a nun calls forth)


M'Lady, the bells have chimed, the hour is near,


Please, dear Mary, wait with me,


Yes, M'Lady, if you are there, then I am here,


O Lord, I pray that You will answer me,

Be Ye also near, most holy One,

I fear I shall die this lonely night,

with all the guilt for what I have done,

lost in darkness, lonely, lost from light.

There rises offstage the music of chanting monks and the tolling of a bell.  Guinevere genuflects and crosses herself then exits.



The End

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