Night's Enchantment: The Pooka

A nighttime visit by one of the most mythical creatures in folklore.

 

 

 I.          Sometimes, they say, on lonely nights

When the air is still and cold.

You might be greeted by a wondrous sight

Of a black winged stallion and his eyes of gold.

 

II.          His great being shimmers in the dark,

For he is not of mortal make.

Stories tell of how a glance would yield unending luck,

Or of bitter unfortunates thrown to devouring lakes.

 

III.         Enchantment floats in the air, palpable,

As your feet move closer of their own accord.

Your hazy mind thinks, “Reality or mere fable?”

But it is certainly not with fear you are fraught.

 

IV.         Each step brings you closer to the magic ahead;

It is then the stallion tosses his long mane and to you says,

“Come away with me, and I shall take you to where stars are made

Over seas and mountains we shall fly, over forests alight with fays.”

 

V.        “Come now,” he coaxes, “There’s naught to fear.

Ocean’s daughters await us, nothing like what you’d ever see here.”

Your hands slide through the dark mane, relishing the smooth feel so dear

You chance a glance into his eyes, bright gold that burn and sear.

 

VI.         Perhaps it is night’s enchantment;

This you will never know.

For when you heft yourself upon his broad tawny frame,

A neigh rings through the night, a triumphant bellow.

 

VII.        Inexorably, he veers towards the sky of stars,

The breeze dances through your hair of black

You are leaving for a place very far,

But no matter what, you know you’d never look back.

Author's Note

For information's sake, the pooka is a creature of Celtic folklore, notably in Ireland and Wales. It is one of the myriad of fairy (faery) folk, and, like many faery folk, is both respected and feared by those who believe in it.