Noreen Carden (16/12/50 / Mayo)
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
Poet's Notes about The Poem
people believed if you placed a fire tongs across a baby cot the fairies could not steal the child away
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