Mist And Legend Poem by Noreen Carden
Mist And Legend
While walking down a country lane,
i felt my soul pulled back in time.
Surrounded by the ancient ones,
whose lives long spent had entered mine.
Then dressed in garb of ancient days,
i walked the road along tilled field.
Sharing heat from open fires their stories
told heroic deeds.
In whispered tones with furtive looks,
they spoke of fearsome fairy folk.
Who tempted men with talk of gold.
While leading them from human sight.
One spoke of babies disappeared,
from cots unguarded by a tongs,
whose mothers hearts when rent in two
With guilt fueled grief their lives did end
They talked of hunger foe of all.
Whose dread spiked finger blacked the spud
Its touch turned stalks to putrid mess.
Causing death to visit multitudes.
Then ancient mist cleared from my mind.
My soul returned to rightful place.
No more to walk through mists of time.
a fleeting glance was mine to take
people believed if you placed a fire tongs across a baby cot the fairies could not steal the child away
Excellent rendering and you have recaptured an image very clear madam.
Beautiful write..fire tongs across a baby cot, protecting a child.Yes, hunger foe of all. Beautiful writes..Enjoyed reading it.
When I was an English major in college, I studied the Irish Renaissance writers - the Celtic Twilight. And I still remember fondly reading those poems of such lush language by the young Yeats, AE, Stephens, Joyce. I have been re-reading Joyce's poems in CHAMBER MUSIC just for the musical qualities. Your poem conveyed the physical environment that inspired those writers. Although I haven't been to Ireland, I have a kind of Ireland in my mind - as do many Irish Americans. But it's not the Celtic Twilight I read. It's the later Yeats of the Byzantium poems, the Crazy Jane poems, the amazing plays like Purgatory. And Seamus Heany is one of my favorites. I thoroughly-enjoyed taking the walk with you by means of this poem. The title alone captures a quality of place which is magical, and pace late Yeats, we still need that magic of time and place.
Wow a poetic walk down ancient more mystical n mythical pasts. Imaginative poem! Swell rhymin. Hapy new yr.
A great little story Noreen. I love the line 'Who's dread spiked finger blacked the spud' Great imagery.
Archetypal images, myths and ghost stories influence every culture that they keep haunting human mind, making it difficult to distinguish between iiusion and reality! Enjoyed your ride through the country alley with your soul possessed by the spirits! !
'Then ancient mist cleared from my mind. My soul returned to rightful place. No more to walk through mists of time. a fleeting glance was mine to take' A nice, poetic end to a captivating narration, with an appropriate title and note. Well done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:16:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A really fantastic poem, really enjoyed it. It reminds me of time slips, where you can be walking down a road then without warning your back in the past on the same road. A fantastic write.