'Irish Catholic Witch? ' you say.
'Yes' I answer.
'Sort of a Fairy God Mother,
As best as I can figure out.
Though I'm more a Fairy Elf
A kind of Helper
When People Treat me Nice
I like to be Around
And See what I Can Do
And if There is something
I can offer'
'Interesting....' you say.
'And how did you come to that? '
'Not Hard'
I answer
'I was born to an Irish Mother
And her Maiden Name Was Murphy
As she often reminded us
When she was about to tell a story
And this was how I was schooled
In the ways of Old.'
What learned you there?
'I learned a story was a Sacred Thing
Something to be listened to
With Care
Something to be told again
With Honour
I also learned
the Horror
Of a Story
If it turns Ugly
For I have been
And I have seen
What Happens
When Words
Get Torn to Pieces.
And I learned
I had a Gift
For Putting
Them
Back Together
Again
But truly understanding it
That wouldn't come
Till
Later.
Through my Mother
I knew My Grandfather
Black Kelts
He'd Say
And he spelt it with a K
And he Told Me
It was Important
That I Knew
That that was the Way
He Spelled it.
I still don't know
The Significance
But it was Something
He wanted Remembered
And So I Remember It
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting piece. I'd drop the line: What learned you there? It's redundant. I hope I haven't insulted you.