“She sat upon her rock in moonlight grey ~
The maiden of the glen, Fiona bright;
And on her clarsach she was wont to play
From summer’s eve to winter’s failing light.
Nor minister’s nor dominie’s dour face
Could banish from the clansfolk’s childlike mind,
That she indeed was of the fairy race,
And brought the blossom and the breezes kind.
One day a rider in a cloak of brown
Was spied upon the loaning through the glen.
Upon the rock the harpist’s moonlight gown ~
Spring left us, and has never come again.
This lay tells why our valley is so cold.”
~So mother sang when I was six years old.
Author notes
Written February 16th, 2006
In a list
- The wraith's complaining mouth • next in list
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What did you think
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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It is indeed - and I am glad you enjoyed it. I might give you a prize if you can spot the tautology
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excellent
Mairi bheag, Once again, I'm so impressed with the fabled quality of your work. This seems to be a celtic version of the Persephone and Pluto myth, and was a delight to read as usual.
Nevada -
I forgot to applaud. My finger is faster than my brain unfortunately so here it is.
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Thank you, Bazza - I am glad it had an effect on you.
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Beutifully written and vividly presented.
Beautiful and enthralling it brought a tear to my eye and i was immersed into your picture so vividly painted that I was shocked when the words stopped. -
Bring back the Spring, Bring back the Spring!! - A wonderful tale of lore!! There's also the tale that the harp is an instrument only for the free - rather than play in captivity the strings were ripped out.
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This is beautiful writing from another country - so different and special.
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Glad you liked it, Michael.
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Excellent, wonderful, perfect and perfectly enchanting! I loved it! So delicate and lovely!
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1 - 9 of 9
3 old applause
