At Long Mynd

At Long Mynd

A Poem by Jeremy Wyatt


At long Mynd every tenth year you will see
a Fox and a Falcon together and free
hunting and running and flying as one
every tenth year till this world is done

~*~
A young priest stands outside the door
full of doubt cold wet and poor
he takes a breath and ventures in
to Shropshire counties oldest inn

No money gold or goods to trade
to eat a bargain quickly made
preach to us youmg priest and see
if words stir hospitality

A deep drawn sigh and eyes that close
he thinks of his lost northern rose
what is it she'd say to do
to speak and get his spirit through

So he spoke of grace and beauty wild
of open space and gentle child
words that made them listen well
stories from his heart to tell

But as they smiled and gave him cheer
inside a crashing wave of fear
for no young priest or friar he
a Scot who from hard strokes does flee

~*~
Alexander run hard down to the South
you cost our life with your  angry mouth
why did you speak so out of turn
you know a witch they like to burn

Now ashes swirl where you and I
 dreamed beneath the open sky
My hope for you I send this day
 take what is left  and fly away

~*~
Loss and echoes of his wife
drive him south for a new life
the robes he wears a guise he found
a murdered priest upon the ground

Now drawn to this new place he finds
a thought to stay grows in his mind
sink or swim here he will stay
no more to run or hide away

Alexander the Friar soon became
a preacher of some note and fame
in his hovel in the woods
speaking healing doing good

Then one day he did espy
a quiet young boy creeping by
he followed on and sought to find
the troubles on this poor child's mind

~*~

Wee child I see you in the woods
hiding begging like none should
come to me I am no beast
come and eat beside this priest

I'll eat a while and take a rest
but by no priest will my heart rest
the lord and master of this town
would have me killed and hunted down

My story is of grief and woe
my father killed for what he knows
my mother a lady great and good
lay with him in this great wood

And now the Lord fears that my life
can come to haunt his tainted life
to slay my family and kill me
that is what his quest must be

Well boy think on this a while
stay and eat I have some guile
a servant of this friar be
I will protect you keep you free

~*~

Alexander thought inside
of how in flames his poor wife died
if he can save this lost wee lad
he knows he makes her spirit glad

So as a servant and a friend
a bargain set at winters end
but more than God our man will show
wisdom of ages he does know

The pair were soon to be well known
into times of trouble thrown
healing helping all they found
Men and beasts wherever found

The boy was one from who healing came
in his young hands was  simple fame
a brood of fox cubs with no mother
he fed them like they were his brothers

But renown for these curious pair
found its way to minds not fair
thoughts of darkness questing mind
what evil brooding lies behind

The Evil Lord set men about
to watch the woods and then find out
who and where the two were there
and bring them to his heartless lair

But whispers in the trees gave word
bark of fox and cry of bird
send the boy away to hide
the priest waits alone inside

They took him in the grey of dawn
dragged him through the forest morn
took him to the Castle cold
for the Lord there to behold
 
~*~

Alexander of Dunguile born to Mary on the White Cairn
would gladly give his life to keep safe the bairn
however much they beat hurt and tortured him
he kept his great silence beneath his face so grim

~*~

After two days enough was cried
it won't be said a priest has died
at my hands but this accursed child
I'll hunt with dogs all through the wild

So casting loose the wounded man
with ravening hounds away they ran
hear the fleeing peasants wail
the hell hounds start upon the trail

~*~

Hurt and injured Alexander crawled
to the broken hut his forest hall
looking on so desperately
for his friend he tries to see

But blood and footprints on the door
marks of violence stain the floor
he drags himself armed with a knife
can he save this poor wee life

~*~

They bound the child upside down to a cross
mocked his child's fear and his pain and his loss
left him to die in the mud at the side of the track
tears on his face and blood on his back


"Heark though lads, this boy of god
hanging wishing he had died..
Let us as Jesus treat him kind
we'll plunge a spear into his side

Then we all can go away
to the inn and end the day
leave this rat the Lord said kill
and drink ale on our Lordships bill!"


~*~

Alexander was coming fast
but was so hurt this day his last
spending his final strength and power
like a failing falling flower

All his force spent crawling here
all he can do is lie so near
the boy he sees at the point of death
time to take his final breath

He lies and sees a silent fox
walk to the boy and sniff his locks
as if it recognised the dying soul
and undertook to make him whole

 
As the life fades and flees at last
a spirit light to the fox is passed
a glance for  boy and priest then fly
away to hillside free and high

~*~

As morning comes our Lord rides abroad
to see his deeds and can afford
to feel fulfilled and smug with sin
he always knew that he would win

But Alexander waits a wounded fist
sees the Lord hawk at his wrist
he rides with soldiers to mock the dead
priest's veangance rages in his head

He takes his knife and runs to kill
through swords and blows that will not still
his hate and anger in his head
his heart beats to make this man dead

But "Hold!" his Wife's voice in his mind
"Leave your hate and fear behind"
and as he stumbles to the ground
he hears a sad and wistful sound

He looks deep into the falcon's eye
sees the need for freedom and sky
He moves his blade away from the Lord
his final deed to cut free it's cord

~*~

The fox was waitning on the slope
patiently no need to hope
it knew the time almost there
to see his friend now in the air

So evey tenth year in the sky
if you hear a call a haunting cry
watch and maybe you will see
a fox and a falcon running free


© 2011 Jeremy Wyatt


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Added on March 11, 2011
Last Updated on March 11, 2011

Author

Jeremy Wyatt
Jeremy Wyatt

Don't know....nearest is somewhere...hmmmm, Dumfries and Galloway, United Kingdom



About
A Welshman moved toScotland, writing since December 2010, in love with poetry and my special poet friends,who I am following here through loyalty and devotion!! more..

Writing