Three Crowns

Three Crowns
 
Once there were in Saxon times, three crowns,
The sea came in, took coast and so one drowns;
Vikings landed, and there defeat, another lost,
Gold melted down, so precious, such a cost;
But one remained, hidden, buried deep, they say,
And while it stays, it guards the land this day,
Along the wind-swept dunes, beneath the sand;
Now Kings and Queens of England rule the land,
And Coronation ceremony is both a solemn time,
And also now for celebration, when bells chime;
But they will never wear the last of crowns at all,
That which keeps safe the land, prevents its fall;
Bound up in ancient magic, art so finely wrought,
Now lost in the mist of the past, and never sought,
Save with guardians of the past, their secret keeps,
Along the coastal flats, where couch grass sweeps:
The distant sea upon the rocks, waves on the shore,
And the last of Saxon Crowns, of ancient lore.
 
(inspired by M.R. James, A Warning to the Curious)