Saturday, May 20, 2006

A squalid little story ......



A squalid little story
I will begin to tell
Of mischief & folly,
& death in a hell

A gnarled old rowan
Twisted & torn
It’s stood here for ages
Before man was born

Spiraling up from the earth
In a climb to the sky
The age of the tree
Keeps her bent and awry

Along comes a farmer
New to the land
Addressing his workers
With his new master plan
Of tillage & rotation
And clearing the field
But the sum of his folly
Will be doom in its’ yield

“Take out that old tree
It’s no longer to stand
It's time it is over
I'm sure it was grand!"

"I’ve heard of that old stuff
Of faerys & forts
And I cannot be bothered
With tales of bad sport
From the “other crowd”
Or what have you
with their revenge & bad luck
To those they encounter
who are not wonder struck”

“Superstitious oul drivel
To keep us in check
So get busy with your cutting
Or the moon will be at your beck”

“All respect to you master
But we’ll have no part
In axing this old rowan
This job we will not start!”

“The good folk, we’ll be leavin’
Well enough alone
And if you have any sense sir
Don’t touch this old rowan”

“For to laugh at them wee folk
Is never a good thing
To show disrespect
Is to give evil a fling
For their ways
Are so wicked
When they are vexed
So be careful
What you say sir
Or your death will be next!”

“Away with you amadans!”
Said the fool of a man
“You’ll work for me never
With such a nonsensical plan
To use this oul yoke
As a scheme not to work
Sure I wasn’t born yesterday
So be off, let me look
At how I can tear her
Off this fine land
And plough this field over
And make it a stand
Against silly old stories
Of magical folk
Who exist in the minds
Of a simple poor folk”

“Who’ll never raise a finger
to ease their poor living
Only to cock a sly sneer
At those who are giving
Some work for the day
At a decent day’s rate
So be off on your way
And heed my advice
That this tree will be gone
In a matter of hours
So pay your respects now
Sure say it with flowers”

We left him there laughing
An axe in his hand
We hastened our departure
And got off their land

And when the first blow fell
It would ring down below
And the shrieks of their outrage
Would be bitter & low

The revenge would be horror
For the wielder above
For every blow falling
No death was enough

He hauled and he panted
This tree was no joke
Two blades had he blunted
A saw he had broke

“I’ll get you tomorrow”
He snarled at the bark
“Your hours are now numbered
I’ll be up with the lark!”

He wandered off cursing
His mood, it was night!
for he had a foreboding
that all was not right.

“That hacking makes one thirsty!
I’ll stop for some drink”
but his mood was no lighter
his spirit soon would sink

“A black moon is rising!”
said the old man by the fire
“You’ll do well to stay the night,
don’t go traveling that dark old byre”

“Away with ye now!
Don’t give me that guff
That fairy talk is nonsense !”
as he left in a huff

but he soon regretted his bravery
and his scorn at the old man
as he felt a dreadful presence
all around him so he ran

“So we don’t exist ye Gombeen?”
Said this wicked little voice
As several hand then grabbed him
Their touch cold as ice

He saw that he was hurtling
Towards a black abyss
As a cavern opened up in the fast approaching hillside
With a terrible, dreadful hiss

Suddenly he was airborne
Flung by hands unknown
Down a dark long cavern
Where life was never sown

It’s said that he is in there
By the folk that live around
Inside the fairy mountain
No more he’ll see the ground

So my listeners hear this story
And listen to my song
Never cut a rowan
Never do such wrong

Be careful where you throw your water
Give warning first
or the curse of the other crowd
will be an everlasting thirst

watch what you say in private
or in public jest
as you’ll never know who’ll be listening
you may have an unseen guest

so hark at what I tell you
don’t make me sad
never ever cut a rowan
or you’ll end up like that lad!

He’s below still in the bowels
Of what we call the earth
Howling like a banshee
Fueling the wee folks mirth

For they love getting
Their own back at those who disrespect
So make sure you tip your hat
When you hear a hidden step!

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