Curse Of Cumnor Hurst

A mysterious curse has befallen, upon the quaint town of Cumnor England, in the year 1868.

Part I 
The Eve Of The Curse
I
Twofold, is the selcouth tale I dare to meantersay,
Amid the depth of an unwieldy darkness in a grove,
Before the shadow of a gloom lurking straightaway,
Whence, the Lady of Cumnor Hurst began to rove. 
II
Within the lee of the thick boles and sprawling boughs,
She shall walk upon those rustling and crackling leaves,
Till her bright glow, shall reach the edge of the cloughs, 
Beyond hallow'd grounds of the churchyard's greaves. 
III
Alack, upon Cumnor Hill, she shall stand alone and lorn, 
Her shriek shall be heard, from the hearths of indwellers, 
Who mammer and fidget in fear awaiting, for a new morn, 
And thus lock'd tautly inside their homes, as true believers.
IV
Foretold, are the leery churls, who do not wend forth, 
Where the rills become one, with the damp marshland, 
And the whistling winds, blow mightily eftsoon north, 
As the callow bairns, eschew the trees of the woodland. 
V
'Tis the eve of her devilish night of sweer sorrow and wreak,
When spooky ravens gather, along the sheepfold of a dale,
Whilst her wode wrath and harsh wite, shall therefore peak,
Within the gory blood and foul stench of the gruesome swale.
VI
Soon, she shall come to bathe upon her day, as the fain queen,
Inside those bustling waters of the yearning fen that shall flood,
As the stench, shall become e'en more fulsome and thuswise seen,
Amidst the broadest pool of those driblets of the trickling blood.
VII
Her willful whims and her wayward will, shall not be forsaken,
Whilst she treadeth afterwards, o'er the soggy and blashy mire, 
When those haunting ghosts of Cumnor, shall strive to awaken,
From the forgotten graveyards that stir for the nonce the shire.
VIII
Ninefold, were the bitter warnings that then threaten'd amain, 
As the clum of three hundred years, kept the elders always wary,
And the daring shepherds harken'd, to the queer sway of the rain,
Beyond the heedful eyes of the gazing dudman and the stars glary.

Part II 
The Day Of The Curse
I
Behold, the dread'd day of the curse befell on that hapless day, 
Where the wanton duchess arose, from that thester hurst nigh,
Whilst her soul strode, onto the calling fields that led the way,
Amidst a brath storm wielding and the blazing lightning high.
II
Children scrung'd altogether, near the bosoms of their mothers,
Where their skittish fathers thereafter, stood watchful and graith,
Against harrowing wolves that were coming for them and the others,
Fearing the ghastly seemings of the wretched curse of the wraith.  
III
Shutters sway'd back and forth, with the howling wind wuthering,
Eaves rattl'd up and down, as the thiller frate throughout the night,
With the clack and scratching claws of the awful ravens cluthering, 
Amidst the mist of the drifting clouds, swathing the land in fright.
IV
Manifold, were those fluster'd kinsfolk, who went to the church, 
Beseeching the Good Lord, to not forlet them within their need,
As wooden doors began to pound side to side, with a devil's lurch,
Aware of a ruthless aftermath that betid'd with the dastardly deed.
V
Those unyielding screams and cries for help heard thitherward,
And a sheer madness and the blind beliefs o'ertook the kinsfolk,
As the unstopp'd galms of her impish steven billow'd withinward,
When the firing balls of lead then flew, from the brazen menfolk.
VI
A dollop of hail dropp'd, upon the derv'd thorp, with a quickness,
That the roofs of Cumnor afterwards ripp'd, into feckless shreds, 
And the muggy windows of the houses shatter'd in the slickness,
With the whimpering children hiding now, underneath cold beds.
VII
Wickedness and dread gart the womenfolk of Cumnor to go mad, 
As the shrill cry of the swarming flies, had deafen'd all their ears, 
Whilst she smil'd with a smirk that made her reddish eyes glad, 
As she slouch'd outside the window, bearing fingernails of shears.
VIII
Tenfold, were the long peals ringing, from the church bells anon,
As a fire swallow'd the whole church, amidst their inward swoon, 
And the bodies of the dead began to rise, upon her behest thereon, 
Where the mist of an eerie night, had then yield'd to the full moon.
IX
Swiftly, the light of dawn shone, upon Cumnor Hill forthwith, 
And loud was a bewailing rue shown, upon the eyes of the wight,
As she dwin'd into the flickering shimmer that welk'd therewith,
Whereupon, the living children no longer, were gallied in the night.
X
Untold, was the sooth behind a headstone, within the graveyard, 
Lying without the wistful name or without the care of the sexton, 
And left forlorn, within the lore of this tale, beyond the churchyard, 
Close-by the winds of Cumnor Hill, and onto the old road to Swindon.

Reviews

[Foreplay]

The proleptic insinuations, coupled with the demotic and disglossia admixture, and occasional agnomination, imbue your poetic synch with an elaborate consanguineous heritage...Your archaic usage challenges and motivates the reader (if suited) to enjoy a rare course. Very admirable and much appreciated.

[Franc Rodriguez]

Thank you very much, and this was inspired, by a tale I discovered.