At Long MyndA Poem by Jeremy WyattAt 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 |
Stats
91 Views
Added on March 11, 2011 Last Updated on March 11, 2011 AuthorJeremy WyattDon't know....nearest is somewhere...hmmmm, Dumfries and Galloway, United KingdomAboutA 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
|