The Thread of Bards-Poetry

[Twig]

Illumination comes in many ways
Be it poem, or song, or Satire.

This is the thread of the Bard or those who would be. To put down their thoughts, poems and dreams.

What are yours???

Peace,
Twig
:elf:

[flar7]

are you seeking poems, stories, or songs?

[Twig]

OK, I'll go first! ;) I wrote this while looking out my window.


Wintertime

The Mother drop her leaves,
as if adding blankets to a bed.
The trees themselves begin slumber,
for the cold days ahead.

The honking of geese overhead,
they fly to warmer climes.
ALL animals prepare,
for the bite of wintertime,

Each and every species,
will have their tale to tell.
Some will not survive,
the cold ring of winter bell.

So as you give you thanks,
when sping is finally here.
Say a prayer for those less fortunate,
The animals we hold dear.

Bardic verse should have a story to tell, or a point to put forth. So what is the point to this poem? THAT, I leave to you the reader. ;)

Peace,
Twig
:elf:

[Twig]

Originally posted by flar7
are you seeking poems, stories, or songs?

YES! hehehe

[flar7]

Why are big people dumb
the little sprite thought?
Always coming and going
and mostly for naught.

Their fascination with money
and the things it can buy.
Not caring for life or nature
and letting her die.

Some day soon thought the sprite
they will have to learn.
The harm that they have caused
she will eventually return.

She is not spiteful or mean
those are human traits.
She simply returns whats given
and with that seals their fate.

[flar7]

This is part of a story I am working on in the Poetry and Lit forum.

In a time long since forgotten by man. On a world dead longer
than ours has existed. There lived a race of powerful sorcerers.
For thousands of years they were the masters of magic, space,
and time. Ruled by the Royal Family, the greatest of their order,
these mages prospered until one sorcerer, who is nameless and
shall be evermore, sought power by fueling his magic from the
essence of their world and its people.

By the time the Family was made aware it was too late to stop
him. He had tapped into a source of power that allowed him to
instantly drain any who were taught the ways of magic and mana.
Seeing their doom written in the stars, the family prophetess also
saw one hope. She told the father to send their newborn sibling
with kenjiro, the familys weaponsmaster. She told him to send
them across the dimensions and time itself. To save him from
the darkness, father told kenjiro to only train the boy in weapons
and never in magic. He was to leave that ability dormant and
if the time ever came when he could use it....well, time would
see.

Kenjiro bid goodbye to his family and friends, cradled his new
"son" to his chest, and was gone in the blink of an eye. Father
asked the family prophetess what she saw now. She gazed at
the stars. Sighed. And replied with a tear in her eye, 'Hope.'




thats part 1. the other parts I have done are in that forum.;)

[lucidfire]

in silence she waits,
eyes peering distant,
capturing light in pale cover
steady sun ball waits, watches
fears no dog who sleeps
sits in a corner,
ever ready,
and then,
pouncing on dirty socks,
chasing her tail,
and finally,
diving in a corner and capturing the shadow

and all is well.

[flar7]

The things we take for granted.


Rain in the mornings when we get to sleep in
the sound that it makes
when rattling on tin.

The sunrise each day that we usually sleep through
how it sparkles and shines
on the grasses wet dew.

The waves of people who are out on the street
as we pass them on by
perchance never to meet.

The beautiful notes played by the wind each day
as we go without listening
on our own merry way.

We feel that these things will always be there
why bother with them now
its not like they care.

The earth has nurtured you through with all of this
think of her as your mother
and deserving your kiss.

[thefluiddruid]

Here's one i wrote about 8 years ago:

The winter of my heart

Alone,
Between the Earth and Sky
Too much Pain to live,
Too damn proud to die,

The Wind calls your name,
but the Mountain gives me strength,
The Wind freezes my tears,
Glistening like rain,
The Mountian is beneigh my feet,
Impervious to pain,

The cold blows thruogh my corridors,
Freezing every part,
alone,
Between the Earth and Sky,
The Winter of my heart.

[Twig]

8 Years later it still took my breath away. :nonono: :nonono:

Still here! :D ;)
Peace,
Twig
:elf:

[thefluiddruid]

Originally posted by Twig
8 Years later it still took my breath away. :nonono: :nonono:

Still here! :D ;)
Peace,
Twig
:elf:

Thanks!!
Good to see your still here BTW!!
:thumbsup:

[MistOfTheSea86]

Journey on and on
through the forests and the plains
Leaving life in your wake
letting go with the rain

Feeling heavy, feeling sad
Yet walking straight and true
through all the gray upon the sky
and the overwhelming blue

Watch the cycles of the earth
burn with everlasting flame
leave a seed of your adherence
then create and be humane

Be one with your surroundings
Breath in the loving air
Meditate to it's wonders
and every joyous flair

Nature is your mother
so let her be your guide
as you follow every cycle
create and coincide.


Hope this bodes well:)

[Ball-Bhreac Ròn]

Originally posted by thefluiddruid


The winter of my heart



Oh, this was so beautiful it brought a tear to my eye, which literature doesn't do very often. It's for rare gems like this that I bother reading at all. Thankyou :)

[Twig]

FalconFlight
copyright 1973 Robert D. Jones

Alone, in my way of thinking.
Alone, in my way of life.
Alone, in sorrow and happiness,
but can this way be right?

You know,
I've searched my life over.
looking for my dream.
Searching for the impossible,
without a guiding beam.

Now man,
can only be nothing,
until he's found himself.
And that my friend is one thing,
that can never be gained by wealth.

And so if you see me,
with only my shadow some night.
Give me a smile and a pat on my back,
because I haven't lost the fight.

Now there's a falcon sits on top a hill.
You KNOW he's totally free.
That's my search and my utmost goal.
I wish that falcon were me.

I'd say fly, falcon fly!
fly to the sea.
Fly, falcon fly!
just don't forget me.
Then that day I will be Free,
Just a falcon
and me

[flar7]

The Watchers

Since the begining
they have watched
Their arms outstretched
to nurture and protect

Their feet holding together
the foundation of Gaia
and their glorious hair
displaying the seasons to man

They have seen us since
we came under their embrace
And if allowed they will watch
as we depart for the last mystery

They hold no grudges
they are the Watchers

[Éric]

Untitled

Yr broydd chan ym dadau
Ble yn sefyll caregos arwyrain
Gwyrdd breoedd a llwybrau
Dan yn nifylog yn frith ffurfafennau.

I fyny a fynyddoedd
Ym ben afaeledig
Yn dal cerdda at yr nefoedd
A benlinio dan yr ffurfafennau.

Yr chlych chan eglwys
Cholli ei liw i mewn i yr nos
A dwi ar ôl ar ei ben ei hun
Cyd-rhwng briddo a ffurfafenn.

I fyny i mewn
Yr nefoedd ddisgwylia ar sêr
Yr un hunau a brydiedig
I mewn 'm chyndadau ffurfafennau.

Yn bell chan hyn chyfleadau
Ar draws foroedd a aig
Gwnaethom a 'n grai buchedd
Dan alltud ffurfafennau.

A awron, yn adfer gostega chlyw
Yn hwy lefau
A canfod yn hwy danau
Dan yn croesawu ffurfafennau.

[Éric]

More of my poetry...still no title. I wrote this for Ásatrúar, with whom I've sworn troth, last year. First, the Old Norse:

Í frosinn land, með glitrandi grimmd
Sviti af ein risastór, samkoma barn.
Dimma eiður endurnýja, mont af skapadómur
Der hjörð af ringulreið hitta.

Drykkur er drukkinn, söngur ert sung
Brokka er uppgerðar, enginn ert græskulaus.
Söngur af gripdeildir, ævintýri af sorg
Þessir ert land hvar neitun maður ganga.

A bitur horn ala upp, allur ert tilbúinn
Sviti í girnd, hlátur í geðveiki.
A það sem kemur síðas ristað brauð, skapadómur af mannskapur
Eini der eldur björn vitni.

Der dyr koma inn í, der vindur blása kuldi
Augan snúa, ert frosinn.
Der vetur koma inn í, hlýja en dauði
Nema neitun langur der Þruma.

"Og I...", segja hann, rauður-með skegg
"...ótti ekki, til ganga hér.
Ei sonur af der Allfaðir, Ég hafa óvirkur
Þinn fólk í þeirra eiga forstofa"

"Myn hamar, ein gjöf
Smíða við dvergar, ei dularfullur hlutur.
Ég ganga der veröld, verndari af mannskapur
Eyðileggja der skemmdarvargur"

Myn forstofa gjósa, ringulreið vaxa
Rödd bóma, lofa af sársauki.
Vopn opinnen, hönd í hnefi
Ringulreið laun á ringulreið.

Skora af vanskapningur, sonuren af dimma
Bylta þjóðsaga, við þruma.
Öflugur vopn, might og aðalæð
Vinna orrusta hvenær sál halda á.

Der þruma bóma, der veröld
Varanlegur eldur, hristingur með orrusta.
Þruma kljúfa, ís hvenær harður
Betl der horn af árvekni.

Barátta tengja, yfir veröld
Hristingur með þyngd, þessi af átök.
Der fyrstur blása , þruma reiði
Kallari der endir af efstu svalir guð almáttugur.

Stríð breiða út, skaðvaldur af friður
Fundur eldur, der tré skjálfti.
Der veröld gjósa, mannskapur furða
Der síðastur orrusta er hreinskilnislega byrjun.

Himinn brennandi, rauður eins og blóð
Blóð streymandi, hlýja og frjáls.
Mannskapur tengja efstu svalir guð almáttugur, sverð ala upp
Aftur dimma allur ert eins og einn.

A klettaveggur, ein standa
Bak til vatn, klæðning logi.
Fáir lifandi fortíð, húm af veröld
Allur hlutur hafa koma til endir.

Hlátur eldur, slæm útreið höfuðkúpa
Háfjallahryggur, setja logandi.
Glampi blað, rún-söngur sung
Der orrusta ert harður fyrir hetja.

Der það sem kemur síðas próf, der það sem kemur síðas Wyrd
Ei veröld, brottför á.
Der lína, minn fólk
Bardagi allt til dauði.

Sól lýsing, glampi á stál
Beygja bak dimma, endir skelfing.
Treue og hugrekki, der vegur af efstu svalir guð almáttugur
Mannskapur hluti ai endir of.

[Éric]

And now, the English:

In frozen lands, with sparkling cruelty
Sweat of a giant, gathering children.
Dark oaths renewed, boasts of doom
The hordes of chaos meet.

Drink is drunk, songs are sung
Troth is feigned, none are trusting.
Songs of rapine, tales of woe
These are lands where no man treads.

A bitter horn raised, all are ready
Sweating in lust, laughing in madness.
A final toast, the doom of men
Only the fire bears witness.

The door enters, the wind blows cold
Eyes turn, hearts are frozen.
The winter enters, warmer than death
Barring no longer the Thunderer.

"And I...", says he, red-bearded
"...fear not, to walk here.
A son of the Allfather, I have slain
Your people in their own halls."

"This hammer, a gift
Forged by dwarves, a magical thing.
I walk the worlds, protector of men
Destroying the destroyers."

The hall erupts, chaos waxing
Voices boom, promises of pain.
Weapons unsheathed, hands in fists
Chaos waged on chaos.

Scores of monster, sons of darkness
Falling legends, slain by thunder.
Mighty thews, might and main
Win a battle when souls hold.

The thunder booms, the world
Enduring fire, shaking with battle.
Thunder splits, ice when hard
This begs the horn of vigilance.

Struggle joined, across worlds
Trembling with weight, that of strife.
The first blow struck, thunder rages
Heralding the ending of gods.

War spreads, bane of peace
Meeting fire, the tree shakes.
The worlds erupt, men wonder
The last battle is truly begun.

Sky burning, red as blood
Blood flowing, warm and free.
Men join gods, swords raised
Against darkness all are as one.

A cliff, a stand
Backs to water, facing flames.
Few live past, this dusk of worlds
All things have come to end.

Laughing fire, licking a skull
Roof of the world, set ablaze.
Gleaming blades, rune-songs sung
The battles are hard for heroes.

The final test, the final Wyrd
This world, passing on.
The line, my people
Fighting unto death.

Sun lighting, gleam on steel
Turning back darkness, ending terror.
Honor and courage, the way of gods
Men share this end too.

[evilslinkycat]

Born from the Mother's womb was I
Amid Time's waters do I sleep.
The wonder of existence is within me

I have been from time's beginning
Child of the universe am I
Countenance changing with the tides.

The light of the sky is silent
But the great singer dreams
Of secrets I cannot see.

I am a spark soaring in the night
By torch and by flame
I sing the song of the heart.

I have been many things
I am the sun shining on the sea
A blinding radiance am I

I am a feather of the hawk on wing
Red and gold- red and gold
Joyous are my cries

The thunder of hooves across a plain
The smell of dust and churned soil
Grass trampled earth

I have been the glint of steel in the winter sun
Power and might my right hand
Encased in the steel fist.

I have been the cry of the shield broken in battle
The lament of the defeated
The cold visage of death.

[widukind]

Alright... I never was good at this, feel free to laugh (and point should that be desirable) ;)

These poems are all I can write lately. They're about visionary experiences I had, so don't ask me what they mean :p

Traveler
--------

Wearing burlap robes
he stood under the sky
alone beneath the moon
he stood as time passed by

below the sea was moving
in colours grey to green
mayhap ships were passing
but remained unseen

awoken from his pondering
by voices raw but bright
he joined wolves in their calling
and howled into the night


Deus Ex Machina
---------------

A fully loaded barge
carrying pottery
had finished a part large
of its long journey

lightning split the air
and struck down fast
from out of nowhere
into the mast

the crew lost all its members
as the ship lay aflame
turned to buoyant embers
long before the night came

[silverm00n]

though I haven't been feeling too poetic lately, here's a short one I just wrote for the occasion
=====


stillness slow creeping waters
lingering beneath moon's embrace
falling slowly to the earth
the ocean's touch upon my face

still wind blowing sky above
eagle sound above earth skin
warm sun shines a smiling touch
and peace begins to move again

[st0rm]

i really LOVE "the traveler".... gj, man

[Morgandria]

"come dance with me"
He whispers.
i twitch,
leaves moving around me
as i lie on Her bed,
cold earth and frost.
i itch,
crawling with need
to flake off
one Self in
favour of another,
like old, dry skin.
on my back,
i stare upwards,
mind running loose and free
as the sky circles like
a wheel,
framed in branches of
birch and ash.
the trees raise long fingers,
scraping the bowl of
the heavens,
as if they could catch that
etherial something above.
"come dance with me"
He whispers,
the wind's hushed voice
in my ears.
i refuse, clinging
to my goretex and my
polar fleece,
my civility and my civilization.
we bow and link arms -
after all, this is a dance, too;
a struggle infinite and eternal.
energy rises, surges -
it pulls, burns,
sucking hot breath
from my lungs,
dragging confessions
of animal longing from me.
i shudder and twist
as i change in His grasp,
forgetting the comforts of
one world as
i reach for the comforts
of another.
"come dance with me"
He whispers,
and I spin, soaring,
as we dance.


-M.

[Gwion]

A great festival
About two lakes.
A lake surrounds me,
encompasses the Caer
which surrounds another circle
with deep moats.

A deep cavern
opens before me,
shadowed by great rocks.
The dragon comes out
and crawls towards
the cups of song,

of the song
of the cups of gold.
The golden cups
are in his hand,
his hand is on the knife
and the knife is
above my head.

Glory to you,
victorious Beli,
son of King Manogan
who defends the Honey Isle.

[Myrddyn Emrys]

TO see the Bardic tools in action does one's heart good.

My compliments to all.

Myrddyn

[Pan]

I dont' know how long ago I wrote this.. but I was in a "write a story with a moral" kind of phase. Here's the first.
--------------------------------

the woods were calm and serene the night an earthen sprite did arise;
the moon was full and her heart was, too, with a rather bright glint in her eyes
she fluttered about the snow-covered forest, her feet ne'er touching the ground;
her pointed ears did listen and catch even the slightest muted sound
that is how she came upon a fox in the snow,
so she hid behind an everygreen tree, so not the least of her could show
the faery watched with un-ending delight as the fox snuffed around;
but he did look up with a startled expression when her feet did hit the ground
in a flash, the fox was human-like, with hair as red as the noon-day sun;
his eyes were blue as the shadows that lie on the snow that the sun did shun
his hands and feet were covered in fur, a rusty-red that covered them so;
and atop his head sat 2 pointed ears that heard the sound of the faery on snow
the faery, called Ell, gasped and fell to her rear, not knowing a fox could change;
but the fox dashed to her, his gait strong and strange
he caught her by the wings, he did, his eyes filled with anger;
the faery just whimpered, knowing of her danger
"why do you watch me," he demanded quite gruffly;
"why do you stare with your impish eyes" he demanded quite roughly
the faery just stared as they were wont to do;
but she managed to choke out "i'm sorry" too
"though you are sorry, you have crossed me, dear fae";
this the fox told her with a voice so grey
"you shall not forget what you have seen, i will make it so" he said;
so he released the faery and laughed quite a lot, knocking her atop her head
when the faery awoke, the fox was gone, as was her beautiful self;
for you see, that faery Ell, was quite a vain tiny elf
she was covered in thick rusty-red fur, with eyes green as the grass in spring;
and atop her head were 2 pointed ears that could hear near everything
she panicked and raced about the woods, her voice screaming through the morn;
but no one would answer her calls of need, no one could hear her mourn
she thought she lost her beauty, her fame, and her life;
but what she did not know, was she was near to lose her life
for around the corner, behind a tree;
rested a hunter, with his gun aimed, you see
a shot went off and Ell raced away, to the sounds of the hunter, who left for other prey;
she came across the Vale of the Fae, on this, this yule-tide day
but they shunned her for she was not one of them, they were vain and haughty, too;
so she slumped away, beneath the evergreen, till day faded to deep dark blue
"are you seeing now," a voice said in her ear "that this is how it was to be?";
Ell turned around and saw the fox-man, his eyes kind as can be
with a flick of his wrist, Ell was back, and back into a fae she was;
she looked at him and smiled softly, just because
"i see that the faery are haughty and vain";
"and this yuletide is about the god being born again"
"i am sorry, dear fox, for the err in my ways";
"i just hope that the meaning of this time will stay with me all my days"
the fox-man nodded and kissed her lightly, his eyes full of love;
"dear Ell," he said with a gentle voice "you can see from above.."
"but yet you cannot see that the god stands before you, and made you learn this feat";
"all you had in your heart was a greed for material things"
the god smiled again and kissed her lips gently, fading away from her view;
"i thank you, lord and your lady, too, for showing me this.. and renewing my love for you"
the moral of this tale is to be told here and now;
this yuletide season is not about the gifts you get, nor the feast to be shown
it is about those you love, and those you do not;
they are all the same in the eyes of the lord and his lady
(end)

[Cev'aq]

I often write haiku inspired by nature... here's some of mine:

Dawn in full glory
Morning mist flows all around
Splintered shafts of light

Stars sparkling brightly,
A cat prowling in the grass.
Eyeshine in the night.

Eruption on high,
Lava floods the mountainside.
Rage flowing, unchecked.

Night owl awake past dawn.
Hooting mingles with birdsong.
Silence. The owl sleeps.

[Fianna]

This is not really in keeping with the motion of the thread but feelings into words count - don't they?

I wrote this a long long time ago - it was published - I bought the book and when I read it I couldn't believe the person who wrote it didn't need to change her life - so I did.

So afraid of dying I am terrified to live
Afraid of getting nothing back I cannot bear to give
Afraid of being rejected I choose to live alone
Fearful of the world outside
I favour staying home

Afraid of what the night will bring I choose to sleep all day
Afraid of leaving those I love I choose to stay away
Afraid of hearing hurful words I choose to close my ears
Afraid of being tormented
I choose to hide my fears

Afraid of missing happy days I fill them up with sorrow
Afraid of what today will bring I look forward to tomorrow
Afraid of eating, breathing, loving, hating, living, dying
Afraid I succeed, afraid I fail, afraid of trying.

[Myrddyn Emrys]

I see no reason that this should not be here. It is a very well written piece. Barding is Barding. It tells a story, wether of the tribe, or just of one. Thank you for sharing.

Myrddyn Emrys

[Twig]

This is not really in keeping with the motion of the thread but feelings into words count - don't they?

I wrote this a long long time ago - it was published - I bought the book and when I read it I couldn't believe the person who wrote it didn't need to change her life - so I did.

So afraid of dying I am terrified to live
Afraid of getting nothing back I cannot bear to give
Afraid of being rejected I choose to live alone
Fearful of the world outside
I favour staying home

Afraid of what the night will bring I choose to sleep all day
Afraid of leaving those I love I choose to stay away
Afraid of hearing hurful words I choose to close my ears
Afraid of being tormented
I choose to hide my fears

Afraid of missing happy days I fill them up with sorrow
Afraid of what today will bring I look forward to tomorrow
Afraid of eating, breathing, loving, hating, living, dying
Afraid I succeed, afraid I fail, afraid of trying.

I remember reading in one of the verses of the Elders that the true mark of bard is "One who can send you to dispair then bring you to ecstasy in one breath." (paraphrased).

You know what? I can feel the FEELING behind this. Don't give up your day job? Not until you make more doing what you really WANT to.

(Sighs) I hear the echos of my youth. I hear a single voice crying out in uncertainty. I hear a Bard for they have made me go back 30 years.

Thank you.

Peace,
Twig
:elf:

[Fianna]

I am honoured.

To be honest I am a bit in awe of some of the poeple here. They seem to be so wise. Not in the educational sense but in the "life" sense.

I already feel so at home here. I also have started to look at things differently - I mean look and not just notice.

Thank you

[Fianna]

no-one seems to be very inspirational these days in this thread and it is a shame to let it go so I will post another old one. I am hoping to write again soon.

Anyway - this one is about a passion of mine - I have 3 - silly really and am always getting ridiculed by friends as being weird. Anyway in order of preference they are:

Trees
lighthouses
elephants

So this one is about a lighthouse -

The Lady of the Sea

Reaching into the black of night
Proudly and silently shining her light
Calling to those all alone on the sea
Beware for the darkness is beckoning thee

Follow my light and heed not the call
Of the whispering waters which summon you all
And alone I will save you if only you'll hear
As I tell of the dangers that wait for you near

My sister the moon will help me to guide you
Aware from the terors that lie close beside you
And help you return to your lovers at home
Who search for your ship in the waters you roam

But remember the maiden alone on the sea
Who saved you this night and set your soul free
And though I am weary tis you I shall save
From the terors which lurk in this watery grave.

[fairyofthefountain]

I wrote this about my father sometime ago, he passed away about 3 years ago. don't know if belongs here or not but wanted to share:)


The child within me cries now that you are gone
I am alone in the dark, you were my light
so much of my time spent grieving.
Time does heal but not like you think.
we have such a bond it is not breakable
I still smell you, I still feel you, I still sense you
all around your land you are still here, you are everywhere
what freedom you have!
There is comfort in your favorite tree for me
I take joy in the birds you love
Your jounery has just begun, that makes me smile
No I don't understand everything but I know I am not alone
What gifts you gave me I hold dear to my heart
the child in me is growing up :)

[Ainwyn]

I seems we were on a wintery theme, so I figured this would fit nicely.
Sonnet #1 (did this for Shakespear Class)-

O! Autumn when the leaves are coloured gold
And Frost's harsh touch doth sheet the ground
with white.
The nights are long and Sun is growing old,
And bards tell stories of His death and flight.
For while Frost's cold breath blows the bright
Sun lame,
So doth He make the Dark Moon glow with life;
For winter is the Lady's time to reign
As She bomes a widow, once a wife.
As Maiden brings forth Mother and then Crone
So King, once mighty, grows old and lies dead;
For all that's life did come of dust and bone,
And Crone once dead is born the Babe renewed.
So as the Year's Wheel ends in death and
strife
O do not fear, for all death turns to life.

[Fianna]

that is beautiful

[~ Monk ~]

Wow! We have some very talented people here! :fpraiseyo

[DianaStormDancer]

originally posted in poetry and literature thread.........but Im feeling bardic today......



I am she who calls to the wind and hears the wolf answer.
I am Diana, Huntress, woman of the woods.
I walk with spirit and dance with fire.
My soul is the river and the earth.
I am the Mother suckling our children.
One of the Learned and daughter of the moon.
My body is the root of creation, and my heart the well of compassion.
I am she who has lived forever.
I am Wild Woman.
I was there at your birth, for it was my birth.
I am she who nurtured you, taught you, loved you, and let you go.
It was my hands who attended you as your daughter was born to renew the cycle.
I am she who walks with death, the one who at the end of your time guided you home.
I am every woman... you have but to call on me and I am there.
I am your free will, your muse, and the voice of your soul.
I am she who calls to the wind and hears the wolves answer...............

[Twig]

Wow! We have some very talented people here! :fpraiseyo

Yes there is my little hamster.....lemming......what the hell IS that thing anyway Shpongle !?? :wtf: Heheheh

Waiting to here from you my friend!

Peace,
Twig
:elf:

[DianaStormDancer]

Yes there is my little hamster.....lemming......what the hell IS that thing anyway Shpongle !?? :wtf: Heheheh

Waiting to here from you my friend!

Peace,
Twig
:elf:


tsk tsk tsk....lil hamsters big adventures...............lmao :lol:

[~ Monk ~]

Yes there is my little hamster.....lemming......what the hell IS that thing anyway Shpongle !?? :wtf: Heheheh

Waiting to here from you my friend!

Peace,
Twig
:elf:

It's a hamster. :D

As for poetry - that's a talent that eludes me...but I am working on my conversation with wind. You never know what might come of it!

[Myrddyn Emrys]

It's a hamster. :D

As for poetry - that's a talent that eludes me...but I am working on my conversation with wind. You never know what might come of it!
Ah, but remember, not all poetry has to rhyme. some of the best poetry I have ever read was non-rhyming. At times, it just merely has to have the flow and emotion to it. ANYONE can rhyme, but moving a person's emotions is where it's at. GIve it time, and just let the emotions flow, then the words will follow.


(by the way, it looks more like a lemming....:nyah: ...)

Myrddyn Emrys

[Brenners]

I wrote this a while ago.

For a short moment my view of the sky is obscured by a blanket of darkness, one that comes like a swift lion, roaring and pounding the earth, a force which vibrates the core of my being. In an instant I am meaningless, as the fury of nature surrounds me with an overwhelming feeling of insignificance; these are the powers of mother earth, a reminder of the time which is ever fleeting, ever slipping through our hands. Slowly, the grains of sand gather around our feet as we try to clean shards of glass from our eyes, never really seeing, rather only looking, only finding the reflection already so deeply imbedded in our mind. To never know reality is a silent hell, a hell of joy, a hell that feels too good to be examined. There is no need, no desire from so many, to see beyond the scattered, blurry images rummaging through their thoughts, these things which do not enrich existence, which only ever create more questions than provide answers. How many wise ones have slipped into the wind to return to peace, how many of their words echo, desperately, beckoning us to swim among the most violent waters so that we may reach an island of paradise, a place of solace, and freedom.

Yes, the storm passes quickly, the lion retreats and leaves us with silence, with afterthoughts that drip from trees, puddles gathering in the streets, the sounds of nature, reduced to nothingness. All around us there is perhaps too much to believe, and it becomes easier to sleep at night when we live by the confines of that happy hell, the one we don?t know exists. This dream, it weaves a tangled web, a beautiful maze of dead ends, where shadows of what could be comfort us, lull us back to sleep. I open myself, I lift my face toward the clouds, arms outstretched, ready to be struck by nature, to be tossed toward the bushes, to be buried into the ground. A small breeze floats by, whispering in my ear, holding me in her arms, the mother has come to embrace me. I have begun the journey, away from myself, to find that place nobody believes in anymore, the one I remember from many lifetimes ago. I say only what has been said a thousand years before, and a thousand years before then, what has been said in sweeter words, in wiser words than the few that slip from my hands. Like the old woman who takes her staff, who gathers around a fire, ready for her walk, I proceed into the darkness, into the womb of my mother, to be born again.

I do not know what I will find past the shards of glass in my eyes, past the grains of sand at my feet, past the howling storm that has passed. I go only because in that place I have found a glimpse of that island, and despite a raging ocean of fury and madness, I will take my small boat, to escape this hell, this place of lies, of dreams, of illusions. There is no fear of death, there is no fear of destruction, there is only the fear of drowning, not in that vast sea which awaits me, but in this life, the one that holds nothing but the remains of a day I never knew.

Copyright Brenda F. 2003

ETA: Oops, do I have to consider myself a practicing Druid to post this in here? I'm studying Wicca and Druidism at the moment (due to the similarities) so I hope I'm not posting where I don't belong, if so I apologize!

:)

[turtlerain46]

He looks out the window
His brown eyes tracing
A mothers tear drops down the window pane
His mind floating about somewhere in the mist
On the border of sane
Brown locks falling
Upon ivory
British tongue gone silent
Sailing
Just beyond my reach
In the depths of sultry spirit
I can just barely comprehend
Yet myn is his, his is myn
Intertwined
In soulful abandon
Reason gone
Lost in those penetrating eyes
For without him I'm none

[BC_Druid]

The wolf dances through the raging storm
Filled with life and ecstasy
Howling to the gods above
Singing blissfully
Bounding through the grassy plains
And amid the tall oak trees
Every step is a new beginning
For this creature happy and free
No worries mar his peaceful face
His belly full and body young
Every step is light as air
Every breath so strong
In his footsteps spring new life
Grass and flowers and herbs alike
As he dances through the raging storm
Of energies ‘o so bright

[Elfa Wylde]

do they recognise
the Tree of Life...
when it's buds are newly green
or when it's leaves burst forth late spring
asking to be seen?

Perhaps it's then when the blossoms come
perfumes in such sweet scent
or the was it dances in the winds
branches leaning, bent?

As i contemplate this thing
I seen begin to see
that some do not eat the fruits
of the tree they do not see.

[Lady Andais]

A young mare snorts,
Looking wild at her surroundings
Questioning it all.
Who are these creatures
What do "they" want from me
Why are "they" doing this?

"They" are humans
Some are nice
Hell maybe a lot are
All she knows is
"They" are trying to
Change her life.

What do "they" really want?
Are "they" nice?
No!
"They" want a tired little mare
A mare to do all of their work.

The younger one wants. . .
Something beautiful
And that she is.
The older creature doesn’t agree
With the younger but he goes along.
He will be an ally for her.

The younger one will have her!
But she won’t submit.
She stares at them
Her eyes wild
Distrust steadily rising
"They" keep coming
Coming towards her.
She runs
Runs to be free.
She will never be free again.

The first rope goes over her neck,
The second around her fore leg
The third round her hind leg.
"They" pull tight and oppress her
She’s down on the ground
Scared for her life
She submits
She really had no choice.

Now you see the shadows
In her eyes. The hurt
deep down inside, is done
and it is forever.
Her freedom lost.
Now depressed
She has lost her youth,
Her freedom, her life.
Now she is just a shadow
Of her former self.
Lost forever because of
Distrust & Depression

My life is similar
To this poor soul
Lost and Gone Forever.

[tree_guy]

my shining star...
what do you wish,
of me tonight?

shall i stalk?
may i cure?
should i help?
or purify?

lead me now.
give me direction.
by your light, wisdom,
and strength.

i will follow thee.
to my ending day.
lost in a lover's lament,
wrapped in whispering winds.

[DianaStormDancer]

I know a longing so intense it shreds the very fabric of my soul.
A love so great the Gods and Goddesses saw it to being.
For although our eyes have never met, I gaze upon this eternally,
and see the emotion reflected back in his face.
I clutch him to my breast, hold him deep within my heart,
Although our bodies have never met in the pyhsical,
we touch...for he comes to me on the wings of a crow,
And I feel his feathered caress.
My heart burns with a flame so bright the heat has fractured in two.
A twin flame ignited in the spans of time and space.
Mear mortals are we on this plane, and yet
I have seen us reign as Lord and Lady.
As Lyon and Storm our paths forever destined to cross.
Our love so tangible that the miles that seperate us,
Are but a stones throw to our hearts.
I hear you,
I see you,
I feel you,
I love you.......forever and a day..................x3

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Hi Di!! Good to see you back around here!

[DianaStormDancer]

Hello love, I never tuely left ya know, and I feel closer to one who has been gone for way too long when Im here in this thread!

[DianaStormDancer]

A Souls Conquest



My spirits at war with my body.
A battle of want, one of need.
My soul is the wounded victim.
As it awaits the victor to be.

Dreams haunt my nights
in my visions I burn.
I'm drawn towards the lights,
and the lessons I'll learn.

A man came to me on the wings of a Crow.
My heart sang to me as my spirit bid go.
Fly to your Soul join with the Flame.
On the wings of the Crow be one and the same.

Time acts as General in the battle we wage.
The conflicts key players have yet to engage.
For they met on the field far after the strife.
Prior commitments to yield, had taken their life.

They each found a love before the battle was fought.
Before the call from above Before the lesson was taught.
Now they reach out not touching, full of love and despair.
Consumed with a longing for one who's not there.

But.......Their Body is strong and Their Spirit will soar!
Their Soul knowing love....will learn to endure.

Storm

[Ladyvi]

One's Own Armageadon

In the depths of humanity
Dispersing the disgruntled
Sorting out beastly actions
Resurfacing the sentient being
Touched by the divine
That fate happens in seeming chance
Fighting the urge and the sign
Pushing away trusted pain
Only to revel in one's own armageadon
Not knowing the game of pawns
The keys dangling in mists and veils
Revealed only to the undaunted
To some offfering of physical atonement
For lasting devotion to love's source
Only to come out of fidelity
Blind trust and true form in one's soul
The only beginning in the end of self.

[DianaStormDancer]

Beautiful expression......

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Ladies,

Beautiful...

[Phi]

And I Must Stay____________________________________________________

And I must stay with what I've known
and know from every fiber of my soul
from that time of true knowing
between the knowing of fresh life
and the learning of life's language.

And some of these are not effable truly
in any of Earth's tongues except perhaps
the tongue of lark or robin or mockingbird
or call of distant wolf;
or green tongues of the ivy leaf or
sharp tickling tongues of soft fresh grass
on tiny soles' and toes' first steps.

These things and more we know;
And knowing, know from life to life,
And find in them a peace and a delight so great
That we return to war and murder and deathagain
and sorrow.

To pains and to a search for faith that wrenches,
And to all manner of torment

Just to sense again that time of knowing and delight
and laughter whispered on the wind and giggles of the babbling brook
Into our virgin infant ears

Before the world can drag us deep to matter and to teaching evil,
And before our brains are filled with confusions of religion.




The Wisest of Souls
Many there are who say
that animals have no souls
And yet
Perhaps they much prefer
To return and stay within
the knowing times
of song of bird and howl of wolf
and earth beneath paw or hoof
and sweet rain on fur or hide
And so perhaps they are, and have
These animals
The wisest of souls
And purest too
And live lives as best they can
in what we've done to Eden.
__________________

[Dave the Druid]

I have been experimenting with what I call "Moment poems." They are short but, well read give a read and let me know what you think.

Cold rain falls
On green trees
Who left the airconditioner on?!

[Phi]

I can hardly ever stop with just a few lines, but Dave, here are some beginning lines of a poem I wrote a long time ago that has a similar take, perhaps:

If the sky is the blue of one of God's eyes
Where is the other one looking?

[Dave the Druid]

Hi Phi!
I like the begining. :)

I my defense I should clarify that I was experimenting with zen poems when I wrote that. Be in the moment, like but not as strict as haiku

[Phi]

Okay gotta put the rest on here now. It feels sort naked like that...;)


If the sky is the blue of one of God's eyes
Where is the other one looking?
And dew at dawn is it a tear that falls so softly weeping?
From stern looks in the noon and afternoon
We shield our eyes and would hide from that all seeing light if we knew how.
And so we look for twilight
When a kindly twinkle shines down upon all our dreams and devices
And we take our comfort in the night.

[Ladyvi]

before i would say wonderful things and say something like . oo thats good need to write that down. and never get to it. here is one of the first poems i actually started putting down on paper.

the search

the melancholy expansion of my soul
the rendering of substance
the ache and the joy
curiosity astounded
nothing abridging
nothing abounds
going between
the surface anew to the world
a serendipity.

[Phi]

I feel that too! Esp. the Serendipity!

[Ladyvi]

even in poetry i tend to be poignant and to the point. but im glad you liked it.

[Dave the Druid]

Okay gotta put the rest on here now. It feels sort naked like that...;)


If the sky is the blue of one of God's eyes
Where is the other one looking?
And dew at dawn is it a tear that falls so softly weeping?
From stern looks in the noon and afternoon
We shield our eyes and would hide from that all seeing light if we knew how.
And so we look for twilight
When a kindly twinkle shines down upon all our dreams and devices
And we take our comfort in the night.

Beautifu Phi!

I have gotten away fom the long form for a while. I need a muse, as it were, to inspire length and emotion.

[Phi]

Beautifu Phi!

I have gotten away fom the long form for a while. I need a muse, as it were, to inspire length and emotion.
Thank you Dave. A muse is being sent your way! Go outside, look up at the sky, see the clouds?
You'll see her form there...

[Dave the Druid]

I looked up and almost got hit by lightning!

Thank you for the muse Phi. I shall try to be more inspired and return to the longer form of poetry.

[Ladyvi]

gets a flash of murphys law lololol .. sorry dave.

[Dave the Druid]

Perhaps I should try for humourus poetry, with or without 'ol Murphy :rotfl:
No need to be sorry.

Be the Awen /|\

[Phi]

When Dave the Druid goes to seek
His muse in heaven's vault
And lightening strikes his pointy hood
He yells "this is Phi's fault!"
:smileroll

[Dave the Druid]

Hi Phi! (I was looking for a high five smiley:))

A lovely poem! :clapping:
Working with weather control? Calling down lightning on me? What have I done, besides write the occasional bad verse? :rotfl:
Thank you.

[Phi]

Yet Phi the Seer had only seen
blue skies with clouds of white
What's in ol' Dave the Druid's head
To bring down heaven's might?:whatgives

:tongueout

[Dave the Druid]

I'm one of the good guys!

I forgot you are a seer (Ovate in Druid speak). Ok so was it my fault? :collapse:

[Phi]

So Dave the Druid rubs his head
And winces from the pain...
And Phi she worries 'bout the Druid:rubhead:
With no sense to come in from the rain.:lol:

[Ladyvi]

rofl lolol . ohh geesh rofl lolol

[Dave the Druid]

Do keep it going!

I've never been the subject of a poem before. Although I fear it ends badly :bouncysmi

[Phi]

All Druids know, or should they so,
That should they brave the storm
They first must sheild their pointy hoods
To keep them safe from harm.

But poor poor Dave he heard the Phi
Predict a muse so fine
He ran unshielded in the storm
to find his muse divine.

And who is Phi to question that?
Tho' it's not what she scryed:
The skies they change as well they will
But Dave's just stunned not died.


And should he put the pen to skin
and write a poem or two
that brillance that so hurt his head
Just might, indeed, shine through!
:rotfl:

[Dave the Druid]

Briliant Phi! :boing:

Would you dedicate that to me?

It ends well, except for any verse I write (unknown so far and my responsiblity). It is in fact thundering and lightning right now and I shan't venture outside. As much as I love the weather, even this Druid knows when to find shelter.

Thank You Phi.

[Phi]

Do keep it going!

I've never been the subject of a poem before. Although I fear it ends badly :bouncysmiNever a bad end for you my friend!:veryweird

That poem is now entitled "The Druid's Muse" and is hereby dedicated to Dave the Druid!:fpipesmok
:hugz:

[Dave the Druid]

Thank you Phi!

That makes me feel most appreciated. I can only hope I can do the same or you.

[Phi]

Thank you Phi!

That makes me feel most appreciated. I can only hope I can do the same or you.It does my heart good that you enjoyed it so. And I await "the same for me" with baited breath!:steppy:

Hmmm, baited breath? Gotta go brush my teeth now:excuseme:

Dave wouldja mind putting this all together into one piece for me, so I can save it?
;)

[Dave the Druid]

Gladly!

Tomorrow, though.

[Phi]

One more verse!

And should the bardic see these lines
And make a jolly song:whistle:
Old Phi'd be glad to hear it sung
And sure would dance along... :steppy:

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Phi,

Yes, you have now got the Satire Lesson done. Just cut-copy-paste it over there.

Dave,

You have the honoured privelage to be the subject for the Satire Lesson in the Bard lessons. You have now been Bardically Immortalized here on Mystic Wicks. Congratulations! ( or would it be condolences? )

[Dave the Druid]

That s an interesting question Myrddyn,

Interestingly enough it is the funny ones that really get remembered, even as nursery rhyms.

Never the less I am deeply honoured and touched by Phi's poem. I needed a smile.

[Phi]

Thank you Dave, your funny post about the lightening inspired this poem so much it seemed to come fast and with little difficulty, just like a conversation in rhyme. I didn't even think about the lesson until after. Rereading it, I realized it might fill the bill of the satire lesson, so I pm'd Myrddyn to ask him to check on it.

You are very gracious. :smile:

[Dave the Druid]

Hi Phi!

I saw Myrddyn's post. Congratulations on fulfulling the satire part of the Bardic lessons!

You asked me to collect the poem did you have a prefered format?

[Phi]

Hi Phi!

I saw Myrddyn's post. Congratulations on fulfulling the satire part of the Bardic lessons!

You asked me to collect the poem did you have a prefered format?
Nope, just email or pm it if you would. Thanks so much, that will help me to have it ready when Myrrdyn posts the thread for the next lesson.

[Dave the Druid]

Ok,
it's nice being an object lesson, I think....:D

I'll get it copied, saved and sent in a bit

[Phi]

I am the small-wren of great-song

The eagle of highest flight

I am the crane in the misty dawn

The owl of the dark and the moonlight
Iam


I am the crow of the message

The sight-hawk of apple-stealing

I am the white swan of all the worlds

The buzzard of death-revealing
Iam


I am the plover of mourning

The blackbird of eventide-singing

I am the gull of sea weather

The gannet of many-fish-bringing
Iam


I am the coloured lullabyer

The starling spirit warrior

I am the mockingbird warbler

The cooing dovecote courier
Iam


I am the lark of the morning

The robin of welcome spring

I am the flight and the sight and the dream

I am a mystical thing.
Iam
Yes, Iam a mystical thing.

[Twig]

In response to the poem written here I call a LOVE FOUL! The depth and breath of this poem had me with tears in my eyes at 6:30 am. :bigredblu Perhaps it's just me as I am the subject matter and bound to you through the ages but that is TRUTH in poetry form people and when a mere poem can move me to tears I have to sit up and take notice.

I Love you Dianastormdancer, daughter of the moon. For you I would lay down my life willingly.

x3
Lyon





I know a longing so intense it shreds the very fabric of my soul.
A love so great the Gods and Goddesses saw it to being.
For although our eyes have never met, I gaze upon this eternally,
and see the emotion reflected back in his face.
I clutch him to my breast, hold him deep within my heart,
Although our bodies have never met in the pyhsical,
we touch...for he comes to me on the wings of a crow,
And I feel his feathered caress.
My heart burns with a flame so bright the heat has fractured in two.
A twin flame ignited in the spans of time and space.
Mear mortals are we on this plane, and yet
I have seen us reign as Lord and Lady.
As Lyon and Storm our paths forever destined to cross.
Our love so tangible that the miles that seperate us,
Are but a stones throw to our hearts.
I hear you,
I see you,
I feel you,
I love you.......forever and a day..................x3

[Phi]

In response to the poem written here I call a LOVE FOUL! The depth and breath of this poem had me with tears in my eyes at 6:30 am. :bigredblu Perhaps it's just me as I am the subject matter and bound to you through the ages but that is TRUTH in poetry form people and when a mere poem can move me to tears I have to sit up and take notice.

I Love you Dianastormdancer, daughter of the moon. For you I would lay down my life willingly.

x3
Lyon
Right Twig! Brava Di! That is very beautiful.

[Ladyvi]

i am not learned of form or lore. here is something short and sweet.

the silent still noise

the beginning of knowing
the altruism of faith
the anecdote of laughter
the stirrings of spirit
in the silent still noise of the mind
ascending from biliniar depths
intermingling to become one
to descend once more
retaining the learned
with the wisdom of a savant
with the strength of a feather
with the heart of a tree
with the passion of an ocean.

perhaps not as eloquent as my more learned colleagues. :)

[Phi]

Very eloquent, and very beautiful, LadyVi.

[Ladyvi]

thanks coming from you thats high praise. i actually have a few songs that i wrote. but im no musician and the melody is stuck in my head. with no way of getting it out. ~ shruggs~ just something i was toying with a few years back.

the poetry is something thats on for a while .. then off. depends on time and circumstance. and supply of white paper with no lines. helps for some reason.

[Phi]

thanks coming from you thats high praise. i actually have a few songs that i wrote. but im no musician and the melody is stuck in my head. with no way of getting it out. ~ shruggs~ just something i was toying with a few years back.

Hey me too!

the poetry is something thats on for a while .. then off. depends on time and circumstance. and supply of white paper with no lines. helps for some reason.
the muse gotta hit ya just right!:bumpsmili

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Vi, like I've told you before, you are your own worst critic. It was very moving. You actually had me snared with the title.

[Mòrag Elasaid Ní Dhòmhnaill]

i am not learned of form or lore. here is something short and sweet.

the silent still noise

the beginning of knowing
the altruism of faith
the anecdote of laughter
the stirrings of spirit
in the silent still noise of the mind
ascending from biliniar depths
intermingling to become one
to descend once more
retaining the learned
with the wisdom of a savant
with the strength of a feather
with the heart of a tree
with the passion of an ocean.

perhaps not as eloquent as my more learned colleagues. :)

It's absolutely beautiful Lady Vi. One of the few poems that really stirred my soul.

[Fideal]

I'm not that good at poetry as of yet, but here's something I wrote a while back for practice.

It's a traveling time for the gentry here tonight
So where is the little changling maid,
who wished to go away with them for all her might
Anchored to this world is she
by a mortal youth who stole her heart
and left her there to bleed

The little changling maid
who walks the borders twixt the fates
her own destiny so torn and frayed
Will she have the will to shed her earthly bonds
Or is she cursed to wander still
waiting for the one she holds so fond?

How she longs to join the dance!
Revel with her elven kindred 'neath the stars
so she would, if not by chance
she couldn't bear to leave behind
a certain lad
who has yet love for her to find

Her patience holds her hostage still
though soon she may find she can't stay long
from faerie revel's thrills
It pains her so
to leave her love
though may be thats what she must do

[Ladyvi]

thanks guys ... not sure what else to say.

[Dave the Druid]

I am the small-wren of great-song

The eagle-soarer of highest flight

I am the crane in the misty dawn

The owlet-watcher of clear moonlight
Iam


I am the crow of the message

The sight-hawk of apple-stealing

I am the white swan of the worlds

The buzzard of death-revealing
Iam


I am the plover of mourning

The blackbird of eventide-singing

I am the gull of sea weather

The gannet of many-fish-bringing
Iam


I am the coloured lullabyer

The starling spirit warrior

I am the mockingbird warbler

The cooing dovecote courier
Iam


I am the lark of the morning

The robin of welcome spring

I am the flight and the sight and the dream

I am a mystical thing.
Iam
Yes, Iam a mystical thing.

Hi Phi!

Yes,
It's really good and reminds me of the song of Amergrin, or is it the birth of Fian... need more coffee mmmmm
A poem of this kind has common currency in Ireland and Wales; does it extend to the other celtic lands and is it basic or advanced Druid?

[Phi]

Hi Phi!

Yes,
It's really good and reminds me of the song of Amergrin, or is it the birth of Fian... need more coffee mmmmm
A poem of this kind has common currency in Ireland and Wales; does it extend to the other celtic lands and is it basic or advanced Druid?Thank you.:hugz: Let me know which Amegrin or Fian, so I can read up and study more.
I would think the earlier songs were created by advanced druids to help newer ones as a memnonic device. That's why I created this one, to help me recall the lessons I had learned from a reading on Celtic animal legends. I didn't know there were others of this type, and would love to read them.
In my mind, the Iam at the end of each stanza is in the call of a bird, and the final two lines are also, like a bird that repeats two notes over and over, then a little melody?
Of course, the whole thing is a bird's voice! The bird is a mystical thing, it is!

I searched my history and found the link to the page I was reading:
http://groups.msn.com/TheOakGrove/celticbirdlore.msnw

[Dave the Druid]

Hi Phi,

Give me some time. I have to go through my books some of which are still in boxes.

I have to admit I was thinking about those poems as well as yours being a reminder that we are connected to all things. One of the first, although unspoken. tenets of being a Druid.

[Mòrag Elasaid Ní Dhòmhnaill]

It is very reminiscent of the Song of Amerigen, Phi. Very nice. One of these days I will get off my but and work on these lessons. Am enjoying everyone elses poems very much though. Keep it up: :yourock:

[Phi]

It is very reminiscent of the Song of Amerigen, Phi. Very nice. One of these days I will get off my but and work on these lessons. Am enjoying everyone elses poems very much though. Keep it up: :yourock:Thank you so very much!
Okay, you asked for it! Here's another form my studies, this one on animals...next post!
Meanwhile, I'm googling Amerigen! Thanks for the info!

[Phi]

Oh come to the pool to the pool in the grove so babbled the brook in the wood

The white stag cocked his head and he followed the doe

And the unicorn ran and the turtle came slow

To the pool to the pool in the grove.



Oh a meeting is called howled the wolf to the dog oh come to the pool in the grove

And the lynx left his hunt and the fox heard the howl

And the raven flew in with the bat and the owl

To the pool to the pool in the grove.



The horse broke his stall and the cow chewed her rope to come to the pool in the grove

And the bull jumped the hedge and the pig left her croft

The hare called the rat and the cock in the loft

To the pool to the pool in the grove.



The old badger came forth and the bear from the north to come to the pool in the grove

The white sow left her litter and the boar joined the dance

And the adder did slither past the mouse in a trance

To the pool to the pool in the grove.



And the salmon downstream swam up not to spawn but to come to the pool in the grove

Came the eel and the frog and the otter all three

When the dolphin she heard she dove under the sea

To the pool to the pool in the grove



The creatures that sleep in the night came awake to come to the pool in the grove

And birds took their heads from under their wings

The eagle the crow and the wren that sings

To the pool to the pool in the grove



When the full moon shone her silvery light to the pool to the pool in the grove

A lizard announced they should all take their seats

And the dragon rose up from the depths of the deep

Of the pool of the pool in the grove



And a meeting was held (as the Druids all know) at the pool at the pool in the grove

Some wished to keep secret and some wished to share

All the mystical secrets of here and of there

At the pool at the pool in the grove



The old serpent dragon called order once more at the pool at the pool in the grove

Not all men are wisened enough to hold dear

The sacred we hold for them of there and here

At this pool at this pool in the grove



Now let us decide here for once and for all at the pool at the pool in the grove

To keep to our own tongues the things that we tell

Let the wise that can hear us decipher our spell

Of the pool of the pool in the grove



Then all of the beasts slipped away in the night from the pool from the pool in the grove

Each with their wisdoms and each with their ways

Repeat what is sacred through nights and through days

From the pool from the pool in the grove.

[Dave the Druid]

It is very reminiscent of the Song of Amerigen, Phi. Very nice. One of these days I will get off my but and work on these lessons. Am enjoying everyone elses poems very much though. Keep it up: :yourock:

Thanks Morag!

Trying to make me feel like a egit? :rotfl:

[Mòrag Elasaid Ní Dhòmhnaill]

Thanks Morag!

Trying to make me feel like a egit? :rotfl:

Would I do that cousin? ~wicked grin~

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Fideal,

Keep practicing, you're on the track, That was very good.

[Myrddyn Emrys]

Phi,

There is an old tale about that. I'm going to do a search and get back to you with it. Had you heard the tale somewhere? I love your rendition!

[Dave the Druid]

Hi Morag!

The least you could have done was to give me credit for recalling it that fast. :smoochypo

That said I was going to look in the Welsh material for the origins (one of) my memory of that poem.

[Dave the Druid]

Phi,

There is an old tale about that. I'm going to do a search and get back to you with it. Had you heard the tale somewhere? I love your rendition!

Hey Myrddyn,

Check the Irish first, I recall something like it from there.

[Phi]

Phi,

There is an old tale about that. I'm going to do a search and get back to you with it. Had you heard the tale somewhere? I love your rendition!Thanks, I'm so glad you like it.
Nope hadn't heard it, just looked up animals in Celtic lore. And started writing another memnonic.
But maybe some older Druid spirit whispered in my ear? who knows?
Here's the link I read: http://www.tylwythteg.com/tylwythteg/sacred.html

[Phi]

I'm not that good at poetry as of yet, but here's something I wrote a while back for practice.

It's a traveling time for the gentry here tonight
So where is the little changling maid,
who wished to go away with them for all her might
Anchored to this world is she
by a mortal youth who stole her heart
and left her there to bleed

The little changling maid
who walks the borders twixt the fates
her own destiny so torn and frayed
Will she have the will to shed her earthly bonds
Or is she cursed to wander still
waiting for the one she holds so fond?

How she longs to join the dance!
Revel with her elven kindred 'neath the stars
so she would, if not by chance
she couldn't bear to leave behind
a certain lad
who has yet love for her to find

Her patience holds her hostage still
though soon she may find she can't stay long
from faerie revel's thrills
It pains her so
to leave her love
though may be thats what she must do
I love the story here! thanks for posting this. I picture the changeling, you are good at painting a picture.

[Ladyvi]

its very good phi . cant help but feel its unfinished. like there is more. or at least i imagine there is more.

[Phi]

its very good phi . cant help but feel its unfinished. like there is more. or at least i imagine there is more.
Sure, there's more. But leaving it like this gives it an aura of mystery, dontcha think so?

[Ladyvi]

ehhh maybe. but then it will make the audience want a sequel. :p

[Phi]

ehhh maybe. but then it will make the audience want a sequel. :pOr make them look for more themselves, perhaps? :heybaby:

I think my grandson will enjoy this being read to him, the bird one too, when he is a tiny bit older. (Now 2)The rhythms might be soothing, huh? Bedtime story?
Mayhap I'll even get out the watercolors and do a few fun illlustrations for them, to help him know what the animals and birds look like, as I may not be able to find each and every one for him in person.
Regarding the bird one, I googled and found everything but the Amerigen story...Any helpers out there?

[Ladyvi]

good idea.. i dont draw that well. perhaps save some originals and put together for an activity book. to be produced for other children.

[Phi]

Now men like to think they make rules:crown:
For creatures of all sorts of schools
But the trees don't take orders
From mere men any quarters
To the trees those rulemakers are fools.:eyebrow:

And the Pine who so lovest the maid:heyalove:
Who grew under her father Oak's shade
His name it was Jack
And he had a knack
For growing where no water's made.

And when he could no longer stand it:steppy:
Jack attracted the maid underhanded
His cone was quite sticky
Her a-corn not picky:smoochypo
But Oak's grandbabe was unreprimanded:spinner:

But when the old Pineparents saw it
They were not so impressed as to awe it:wtf:
For it could make no cone
Just acorns alone:fpatricks
So the Pines of the forest de-naw it.:mad:

Well the new tree we call it the pinoak:bigblue:
As oaks go it is quite a thin oak
'Tis shaped like pa pine
And can grow rain or shine
With its leaves in the shape of a minnow.

And the Old Pines and Old Oaks allow:o
That it happens no longer right now
Pines leave oak maids behind
And stick to their cone kind
And the Jacks must keep cones in their trou!:hairred:
__________________

[PAGANFILES]

Illumination comes in many ways
Be it poem, or song, or Satire.

This is the thread of the Bard or those who would be. To put down their thoughts, poems and dreams.

What are yours???

Peace,
Twig
:elf:


I stand with circle round.
Its power shakes the ground.
The old ones spoke the Words,
and later died on swords.

We lack what once they had.
The Words, now lost, so sad.
But all seeds spring anew
and sip a mornings dew

[Phi]

I stand with circle round.
Its power shakes the ground.
The old ones spoke the Words,
and later died on swords.

We lack what once they had.
The Words, now lost, so sad.
But all seeds spring anew
and sip a mornings dew
Love this, PF! How true!

[PAGANFILES]

There are advantages to having actually stood in some of the old places.

Terry

[Phi]

There are advantages to having actually stood in some of the old places.

TerryIs that so? How interesting! For I have done a few. the Stonehenge before it was roped off, and Petra that ancient city to name just two. I have travelled much.

Of course the old growth forests of NC and most especially of the mountains there gave me more than the "sites" of old, for I could visit them at will and often. And of course the rivers and the ocean which have been long before a circle was made by man.

[Dave the Druid]

Some times the old places are the best.

I like Avebury and there are celtic parts of Northern Italy that I don't think should be missed.

As with the old forrests in NC, sometimes it is the places we go to regualrly that have the most meaning. There is a place deep in East Anglia that holds special signifigance for me.

There are places in Wales that I would love to go because of their connections to the old ones.

[Phi]

Have you seen the great phallus stone
And the stone of Venus by another name?
Have you seen the Owl that snatches the mouse of stone?
And death that carries over her hooded shoulder the serpent
And holds it with her hand?
But falls in time herself?
The great Hierophant and
The Seeress stand nearby.

[PAGANFILES]

Phi,

Nicely and fluidly said.

Before we went to bring our daughter from China, we spent 3 months Eur-railing all over Europe. Between Asia & that I was just about numb when we got back. Some of what I saw & felt didn't surface for years to where it could be examined properly.

Terry

[PAGANFILES]

Hmmmmmm.....bit of a paradox here.
For most of the Bardic, dear.
Do talk quite a lot.
Sometimes stirring the pot.
Loquacious to the end I fear.



Terry

[Phi]

Hmmmmmm.....bit of a paradox here.
For most of the Bardic, dear.
Do talk quite a lot.
Sometimes stirring the pot.
Loquacious to the end I fear.



TerryWhen one has been on self imposed geisa for more years than I care to recount, the words do tend to flow out...:vanish:
Did you see my edit of previous post? Rough sketches to illustrate that poem?
Anybody seen these figures anywhere?

[PAGANFILES]

When one has been on self imposed geisa for more years than I care to recount, the words do tend to flow out...:vanish:
Did you see my edit of previous post? Rough sketches to illustrate that poem?
Anybody seen these figures anywhere?

I actually thought the were stone carvings until I clicked them up to large. They look like some carvings we saw outside strassburg in Alsace Lorraine.

Terry

[Phi]

I actually thought the were stone carvings until I clicked them up to large. They look like some carvings we saw outside strassburg in Alsace Lorraine.

TerryPF, I started a new thread on this subject so the poetry thread can continue on while I ask all about these carvings.

[Phi]

Here within this virtual world
I have friends of many kinds
I've never seen their faces
but they let me see their minds.

Now in the place I live in
Acquaintances come and go
I see them smile, I shake their hands
But never really know

The things that they believe in
And the inside of the mind.
So I think the friends of virtual
Are in truth the real-est kind

[Dave the Druid]

Very nice!

Maybe this medium is best for finding out what is really inside people. :hmmmmm:

[Phi]

Vespers



By the meadow and the wood
I go
And hear the sounds of whispers
As breezes rustle leaves to wave hello.



The mockingbird sings and echoes
Answers
Of my queries whistled to the
Meadowlark and mocks our vespers.



From a distance out of sight
Owl calls
Asking if the sun is leaving yet
And who goes here as evening falls.



Into the deeper meadow land
I peer
Am tempted by the beckoning of fronds
That seem to say come deep come here.



As late day sunset beams light paths
I move
E’er deeper then into the gloaming
Beckoned deeper, deeper still into the grove.



And I in spirit as I move am moved within.
A song
Escapes my lips without a thought for how
Or why or even where the words come from.



In languages that come into my heart
I thrill
And singing tunes of ancient ones I ken
‘Til hallow’d peace becomes my soul and I am still.

[welkin]

The Ancient Bard

The enchanting music endures still
Remnants preserved from the ghosts of time,
Where the minstrels and bards proudly shared their skill
In a tradition that has faded, now hard to find.

The timber rings clear, echoing from a misty land
While stories in dreamlike ballads called to keep,
History alive and within their tingling hands
Where ancient magic runs, through hill, forest and waters deep.

The grace of the harpers strings play sweet
Like the charm of the silvery moon,
Soothing the soul like an angels peace
While the harp softly resonates its capturing tune.

Or the dancing fires that claimed a part
Of the haunting power that rose in strength and might,
As the passion flowed through their hearts
To express their pride for freedoms light.

Respect and honour clothed their fame, and cast
These harpers that travelled their life to play,
And the Bardic Draoi Masters, a gifted name, of past
Recorded and touched the Spirit , in a special way.

© 2004 S. Townsend

[Phi]

The Ancient Bard

The enchanting music endures still
Remnants preserved from the ghosts of time,
Where the minstrels and bards proudly shared their skill
In a tradition that has faded, now hard to find.

The timber rings clear, echoing from a misty land
While stories in dreamlike ballads called to keep,
History alive and within their tingling hands
Where ancient magic runs, through hill, forest and waters deep.

The grace of the harpers strings play sweet
Like the charm of the silvery moon,
Soothing the soul like an angels peace
While the harp softly resonates its capturing tune.

Or the dancing fires that claimed a part
Of the haunting power that rose in strength and might,
As the passion flowed through their hearts
To express their pride for freedoms light.

Respect and honour clothed their fame, and cast
These harpers that travelled their life to play,
And the Bardic Draoi Masters, a gifted name, of past
Recorded and touched the Spirit , in a special way.

© 2004 S. Townsend
Very beautiful. Very well written. Thank you for sharing.

[welkin]

thank u Phi

[welkin]

Raven Moon

Captured reflection
reveals hidden truths,
wisdom’s of the wild sacred night.
Where black iridescent shimmering wings
unfurl, as the Dark Raven calls and sings.

Liquid pools as black lustrous pearls
gleam and refract lunar tides,
within a grove of Elder trees.
Where Her council wise, gathers secretly
in a magic shroud of duality.

Touched by light of the lambent moon
filaments haunt, silver shadows echo.
Dark Lady travels a midnight portal
and proudly She cries:
Listen to her caw!
messages reach through a shrouded door.

Raven Moon weaves within the dark
of phantom tinted violet hues,
watchful in wild wooded mist.
Her vision rides in moonlit eyes
where soft ethereal waves fold ever nigh.

© 2004 S. Townsend

[Phi]

Raven Moon

Captured reflection
reveals hidden truths,
wisdom’s of the wild sacred night.
Where black iridescent shimmering wings
unfurl, as the Dark Raven calls and sings.

Liquid pools as black lustrous pearls
gleam and refract lunar tides,
within a grove of Elder trees.
Where Her council wise, gathers secretly
in a magic shroud of duality.

Touched by light of the lambent moon
filaments haunt, silver shadows echo.
Dark Lady travels a midnight portal
and proudly She cries:
Listen to her caw!
messages reach through a shrouded door.

Raven Moon weaves within the dark
of phantom tinted violet hues,
watchful in wild wooded mist.
Her vision rides in moonlit eyes
where soft ethereal waves fold ever nigh.

© 2004 S. Townsend
Very beautiful and expressive. Thank you for sharing it.

[Ladyvi]

for the real

to juxtapose the before and after
one hand on the ephemeral
one hand on the physical
realities marrying and dividing
worlds colliding
swirling murmurs over my head
ripe to pick and absorb
the collective of real and surreal
two worlds in one
one to understand
one to learn
one to be one

[welkin]

thanks phi.

Ladyvi ~ two worlds in one; a great union woven here nicely.

~peace and light~

[Ladyvi]

welkin. within me. its very much true. i walk and see two worlds. not easy to explain to a lot of folks even among our own kind.. it isnt easy to explain or comprehend by some.

[Twig]

welkin. within me. its very much true. i walk and see two worlds. not easy to explain to a lot of folks even among our own kind.. it isnt easy to explain or comprehend by some.

:sunny: hehehe. ;)

:shhhh:

:ghostie:

[Phi]

welkin. within me. its very much true. i walk and see two worlds. not easy to explain to a lot of folks even among our own kind.. it isnt easy to explain or comprehend by some.
I love this poem! I wanted to touch your karma, but it says I have already!
As you know we both see and walk in twain or more, though in slightly different aspects of same.
Good to see this posted here.

[Twig]

:floating: :bubbles: If either of you need me I'll be out on a walk. ;)

[Ladyvi]

right sweet dear.. ohh thats for twig and phi..

[welkin]

quote[Originally Posted by Ladyvi
welkin. within me. its very much true. i walk and see two worlds. not easy to explain to a lot of folks even among our own kind.. it isnt easy to explain or comprehend by some.]quote

i know what u mean. i find poetry is a great form of expression. :floating:

[Phi]

When I go walk among the trees
Will they sing and teach their songs to me?
Will the breezes play their branch-strings like a violin?
Will my heart burst from the sound of them?

When I go walk among the trees
They are all that music is to me
And my spirit sways in rhythms with each limb and leaf
And the rapture tears as it were grief.

[welkin]

nice poem here Phi!
the feeling is captured well. love this line especially-
"And my spirit sways in rhythms with each limb and leaf"

[Phi]

thanks, Brother. This one I sing a lot. :)

[welkin]

A Druids Seasons part 1

O’ ‘tis the time of Winters shadowed dark
when all light fades, though it will be reborn,
for the cycling, changing living spark
will journey deep to bleed, regrow, reform.

To confront those wounds the Self has cast
to vision through a veil of grey to know,
the healing found from gathered past
to learn from wisdom that shall ever flow.

For like a mirror will reflect the light
let life turn, face and shine on me,
my soul find gifts, in focus with the sight
to see direction, through all that will be.

O’ gently guide this Spirit’s burning flame
through shadowed caverns, this wise world frames.


part 2

Behold and face the morning Sun
as Spring awakes, sweet scents grow new,
reborn again, time turns, threads respun
clear and balanced, strength in all to do.

Now to focus vision, see life’s creation
where dreams call, paint goals upon the way,
in confidence I will clear confusion
and let the lambent light shine to display.

The seeds in surety, that now proudly grows
young shoots arise mature to be,
as yonder Sun and Moon, circle and flows
around and within the sacred Earth and me.

So may the light, illume and gently guide
this soul along the path, to ride the tides.


part 3

The fiery Sun reaches its zenith high
rich crown of gold and citrine noble hues,
that marks the time of fortunes greatest cry
which bathes this land in rightful dues.

Arms upraised, I salute and face
draw strength and might for the promise,
of abundance in this world to grace
with wisdom bright, fill this open chalice.

Let rejoicing flow, fill our hearts, and be free
proudly share the wondrous songs in streams,
of sweet delight in Nature’s beauty
and heal those whom have lost, the precious gleam.

O’ bless me, and my kindred searching Souls
that walk and weave within this living bowl.


part 4

O’ by the blessings of this sacred time
where celestial orbs align as one,
reflect with harmony, rhythm and rhyme
the power on Earth by the Moon and Sun.

In all that I am, as I make my mark
let me now feel and embody the light,
that shall steadily guide through closing dark
of Nature’s Autumn, let wisdom show right.

In every step, o’ may I be healed
along this path and accept with grace,
the fruits of harvest in all I have learned
surrender the past, find peace to embrace.

So now i’ll give thanks, for gifts grown bright
in all my works and my spiritual plight.

© 2004 S. Townsend

[Twig]

well looky here. Twig bumped the thread! :hehehehe:

[lednevir]

http://www.geocities.com/shst777/forceflow.html

[acqualupa]

in silence she waits,
eyes peering distant,
capturing light in pale cover
steady sun ball waits, watches
fears no dog who sleeps
sits in a corner,
ever ready,
and then,
pouncing on dirty socks,
chasing her tail,
and finally,
diving in a corner and capturing the shadow

and all is well.

a beautiful work
thank you
mina aka waterwolf

[acqualupa]

i'll start with posting these three from my earlier years (born '82)
the first two, a conversation & a white flower, written in 98. hauntings of autumn in 97

....a conversation...

“Love is like a drug,”
says the scornful sun
“once you try it
you’re hooked.
Slowly,
it manages to take a hold of your life -
crushing your hopes
and your dreams,
yet you find
that you cannot live without it.

Love is a rose
which gives more pricks,
tears and pain
than it’s beauty is worth,
yet it’s fragrance
lures you
and it’s mysterious beauty reels you in.
It is intoxicating;
it gets into your blood,
takes a hold of your heart
and tears it in two.”

“That is not true,”
laps the calm sea
against the shore
“...love is a peace of mind,
of soul...
it is what makes you whole.

It binds souls together
for eternity,
and gives all strength
to blunder through the everyday hardships
that fate throws in their direction...

without it,
you are only half whole
and your heart
is as empty
and torn
as when the wind
thrashes me against the shore...”

“Love takes all your hopes and dreams
and leaves you empty
with nothing to keep you going...”
whispers the now timid, controlled breeze;
child of the fierce wind...

“Love is like when you
rustle the leaves of my children,
caress my being,
then are gone
without a trace...”
cuts in the grumpy earth,
hot and bothered by the breathless summer,
as the sunset spills across the sky

“...it is restless
and never allows itself to be savoured
to the contentment of its receivers -
like a sunset
which never lets you bather in its beauty for long enough
but vanishes
almost as quickly as it has begun.”

“Not so,
love is for forever;
for true love can never be broken.”
Smiles the sad, brilliant moon.

“It will continue on for infinity
and is always ample in its generosity;
in the end -
it will always bear fruit...”
For this, the splendid rising moon
truly believed,
for he is in love with the sun
but she will have nothing to do with him
and will pass no more than the time of day;
so he will continue on his lonely chase across the heavens
never quite reaching the dawn.

“...but you cannot expect to have love
without pain;
just as you can never have day
without night...”
and with a last sad smile
for the chuckle of appreciation from his friends,
he continues on his way.....

~~~~~~~~~~

a white flower


with burning flesh
I turn from the splendour of the sun
daisies sway gently
at my feet
a tender caress
from the wind
under the blazing furnace.

the carpet of lush green grass
is like a delicious silken blanket
between my toes
the bracken crunches and snaps
as I walk to the clearing
the fern stoops lower
leaning towards the gurgling stream
weighed down by its burden of grief...

carefree it dances
splashes and sparkling
bouncing off rocks
tumbling down through the sombre valley
challenging all to a game of catch
as it caresses with icy tongue
the ankles of children.

A beautiful sound
bubbles deep within
erupting first in quiet chuckles
but gaining momentum
roaring into the silence
shattering harmonious peace
until exquisite pain
doubles me over
enveloped
glowing
with love...
~~~~~~~~

...the hauntings of autumn...



the leaves
blaze red
with an eternal fire
torching
the trees
soul,
while shimmering moonlight
steals the hope
of withering plants
who shrivel
and die.
as the cold
death of winter
seeps through
gaping cracks
of space
left
by the ending
summer,
souls creep
into haunted hide-outs
to sleep
the unrelenting night through
and the watery sun
catches the inquisitive innocence
of the children,
staring
wide-eyed
white noses pressed
against the crystallised pond -
a window
over-looking
the dying world.



blessed b
may the goddess walk thru your footsteps, teh shinning one lighting your path & the flamekeeper burn brightly in your hearths
love mina aka waterwolf

[Phi]

trees budding, sap rising,
awakening from winter-night's rest:
Good morning my friends.

crocus bloom, small shoots sprout
Hello babies.

frogs sing again
so do I.

[Ladyvi]

phi darling. your back !!!!!

does a dance.. where have you been darling. :)

[Phi]

phi darling. your back !!!!!

does a dance.. where have you been darling. :)

:smile: :smile: :smile: :smile: :smile: :smile:

I have been in computer-hell! :damnpc:

Had a heck of a time getting the old e-mail going. For a while there, I couldn't send any emails. Then the "wonderful" new antivirus, spam-blocking garbage wouldn't let me get through anything at all:bangyourh so then I couldn't even read what was going on at MW, whereas before I could read but could not post nor pm anyone. :atantrum:

Finally I got so tired of trying I just junked the whole bit and bought a new versoin of Norton like I had before. Voila! I have returned!

I will pm you with all my questions regarding the new baby ect! :hugz:

I have come home!!! _cloud9_

[skilly-nilly]

Wet snow pelting down;
Joints all aching.
Grey sky, sharp wind:
Spring is breaking!

[DraoinanDuanaire]

Bhí na reannánaí
Anuas na sléibhte
Agus na haibhneacha
Fionnfhuar is saor
Ach mo chroí, mo chroí
Beidh sé trom thugaibh
Traothaim i ngeall túsa
Beidh na reannánaí geala arís.

-------------

Someone correct my writing, if necessary (I don't take offense)...it sounds right in my head. ;)

Edit: I don't mean the poetic license in grammar.

[AstralMagick]

I love poetry. I like to Illuminate it, but I'm not that great at making my own.

[Phi]

Oh what would Cuhulin stand for
and what would he have done
Without the Morrigan of war
no battles could be won.

And Setanta he would have no skill
Nor epics by Fili
Sans knowledge of the righteous kill
from Scawha and Efee.

And in tradition of triad
though her tale's no longer told
I needs must mention Uathach
One of the three so bold.

No doubt there were, long ages past
Long epics sung of them
Lost. And soon revived at last
From one far distant kin.
***

Oh, Gwion Bach was just a boy
No chance to come to fame
No more so than the old blind man
the keeper of the flame

And who reads any epic tales
of that old hero blind?
That he is even mention-ed
Is, after so long long time,

Due to the mystic herbalist
The wise one, the wise-she
Due to the Cerriwidden-mage
Due to the Ban-Drui

The boy was quick, but quicker still
the Cerriwidden was
For every single shape he took
She took the greater cause.

And finally defeated him,
for in the end she ate
The seed of grain that he became
And gave to him his fate

And when was born the Taleisin
A weak and tiny babe
The Cerriwidden gave him life
Nor sent him to his grave

But baptized him in Druid way
There in the old old stream
And gave him life and gave him strength
Just as the Goddess deemed.

Some say she wished to drown the babe,
But had Cerriwidden, strong,
Wanted newborn Taliisen dead
He could not have fought for long.

Where are the songs of women then?
Where are their epic tales?
Bare mention made, and that unsought
Comes now from neath the vails.

[odubhain]

Here is a poem by one of the last formally trained of the Filidh (the inheritors of the Irish Druids), Daibhaid O'Bruadair. It is a poetic praise poem in a strict poetic form known as Deibide heptasyllabic metre. I present the English translation of the poem (by John C. Mac Erlean):

Clans Spring Ever from the Young

Clans spring ever from the young,
According to prophetic lore;
Not the weaklings of a race
But youth is every tribe's first root.

If believed be tribal tales,
Since first a family was formed,
The oaths of seers are either vain
Or the young the ancient parents were.

For him who hath the stories conned
Of the six tribes' origin,
At the parting of each race
One begetting branch stands forth.

Thenceforth from the young they came,
Such is nature's constant mode,
Like the race-begetting branch
Begins the first of every sept.

From them despite their youthful age
Begotten is each forest's youth,
Nor hath any slur remained
Upon the lions' warlike whelps.

From the spawn the salmon spring,
From acorns rise the rugged oaks,
Such he sign of every race -
Rivers flowing from the founts.

The swarm is father to the bees,
Morn is mother to bright day.
A future tribe's true treasure is
The youthful founder of the race.

Like stream which flows from welling wave,
From John of Caillainn there hath sprung
By branch-clad hazel-brook Cliu's chief
Claonghlais' lord, a cluster's fruit.

He, scion of a brilliant wood,
Shall merit fame by noble deeds, -
Stately sprout to shield its trees,
Guard of its ancestral weal.

Like wood from wild branch growing comes
The heir of Éamonn, Thomas' son,
To cause their credit to increase, -
Bloom of shielding branch now born.

That gain unto his tribe accrue,
They wonder not who Maurice loved,
In John, Sir Éamonn's noble son,
Warlike wands wove golden gem.

Young shoot, to who a wood bows down
Whose richest bloom is Éamonn's son,
Leader, chieftain of their flocks,
Branchlet, heir of all our love.

Mantle-guard of Luimneach's lios,
Its battle-squadrons' infant-chief,
Smiting bolt of Baile na Trágha,
Harbour-scout of sluggish Máigh.

In him shall be the tribe-land's guard,
Childhood's age when he shall pass, -
Fated pledge to rouse the land,
Uí Chonaill's battle-lions' chief.

Not few are they round Mary's son
Who play on music's joyful harps
With swelling, stream-sweet, sun-bright tunes
In Gort na Tiobrad's, neat, dry land.

Many trained in forms of art
Are there with poems, sifted, gleaned, -
Bands, who shape the neat-hewn songs,
Distinguished drove of druids wise.

For Mary's son shall banks of Daoil,
And slopes of ancient Máigh be filled,
Those streams, intent upon increase,
Their weary waiting shall forget.

Bear, whom spite shall never crush,
Guiding star of wisdom's lore,
Bloom of Grecian clan in war,
arm-skilled branch in fierce attack.

The noblest blood in Inis Fhloinn
Nought can boast o'er Éamonn's son,
His blood is Greece's fairest bloom, -
Choicest branch of Cárthach's chiefs.

For in John's blood are combined
Tál's nobleness and Cearbhall's seed,
Every sept most widely spread,
Kinship too with royal Roche.

Our binding link he soon shall be,
Our living torch, our mental light,
In skill and cheerful confidence,
In age and in inventive skill.

All hail the prince to whom are born
Generations named from him.
Lucky we, for he's the cause
Why all the rest spring from the young.

---

Searles

[Autumn Clair]

OK, I'll go first! ;) I wrote this while looking out my window.


Wintertime

The Mother drop her leaves,
as if adding blankets to a bed.
The trees themselves begin slumber,
for the cold days ahead.

The honking of geese overhead,
they fly to warmer climes.
ALL animals prepare,
for the bite of wintertime,

Each and every species,
will have their tale to tell.
Some will not survive,
the cold ring of winter bell.

So as you give you thanks,
when sping is finally here.
Say a prayer for those less fortunate,
The animals we hold dear.

Bardic verse should have a story to tell, or a point to put forth. So what is the point to this poem? THAT, I leave to you the reader. ;)

Peace,
Twig
:elf:


This is just like something I'd write! But I know I didn't write it.........:clapping:

[Twig]

bump!

[Tranquility]

The opening stanza to a poem I began. This was when I was meditating in the middle of a pitch black forest, at first terrified, but then finally calm and aware. I really felt Imbas for a moment there, but this was all I could get out. I'll have to re-explore that and finish it!

Music of the Night

When the primary compass of the flesh vanishes,
the body dissolves into chaos,
possessed by fantasies and imagination,
deceived by eyesight,
deluded by thought,
stripped of defense.

Presented by truth, we are confronted by the purest fear,
Hidden no longer by the visage of darkness