Friday, 12 August 2011

The Stolen Afternoon

At the beginning of the week, I had the great fortune to visit Doon Hill, with two fae-friends.  The day dawned bright and full of sunbeams and hope for a great day. The fae did not disappoint us.

Here, in my homage to W.B. Yeats' evocative poem, is what I hope, a true rendering of our experiences there - if only we could have stayed...



Where dwells the sacred pine tree
Near Aberfoyle’s auld Kirk
There rises up our Dun Sidhe,
Amid green shadows mirk
Of rowan, holly, ash.
There they walked upon the rath
Filled with hope that
They might soon behold our Seelie Court.
Come away, O mortal folk!
Here beneath the verdant oak
With your fellows, hand in hand
For we have an open portal, unto our summer land.

Where the spear-beam sunlight glistens
Along lofty wishes
We flitter as we listen
Bestowing our kisses
Upon those human brows upturn’d
In faces, smiling, glances
Here and there they seek,
To follow gauzy fleet wings
That are like to make their hearts sing
And right chirksome in its beat.
Come away, O mortal folk!
Here beneath the verdant oak
With your fellows, hand in hand
For we have an open portal, unto our summer land.

Where moss-clad stones lie gird around
By split-trunk ancient beth
With softest hushing sound
Breathe sweet nature’s breath
And with their humble offering
A commonwealth is wrought
For a span of their time
The world means nought
A balm to suffering
On Doon Hill sublime
Come away, O mortal folk!
Here beneath the verdant oak
With your fellows, hand in hand
For we have an open portal, unto our summer land.

Away with us they’re coming,
The cheerful Three
Through glades with fat bees humming
Lifted are their hearts, and free
With gladsome shout and joyous laugh
They step into our realm
Full here to dwell, their world flies past
And time does overwhelm.
And so remain these blessed folk!
Here beneath the verdant oak
With our fellows, hand in hand
For we had an open portal, into our summer land.


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