I was without Caer
until she came within my dreams,
taking herself to the long, lake shore -
from there she beckoned me.
When I stretched my hand
to touch her face,
I parted mist whilst she
dissolved to morning.
Mourning my days
and bearing sunlight only as it
faded into night, my bed
became the barque that took
me to that strange shore
to hear her voice, to see her
face, to reach for her –
and her to melt again.
One night I thought that I
should die beside that lake rather
than touch her skin and cause
my dreams’ demise. But she came
as a swan amongst the swans
and spoke to me as
swans speak to men in dreams.
She stayed a swan
and so we flew as swans beneath
that melon moon. We flew
all the way to Meath,
to rushes whence we
make our nest and
all our dreams are true.
Author notes
in aimn De --
This is my retelling of an old Irish myth.
A contest entry
- Irish Poems by JustWhoIAm.
600 points, ended April 17, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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I enjoyed this very much and love the play on words with Caer (care) Ibormeith who I read would change into a swan on Samhain, remaining so for a year before inhabiting her human form again on the next Samhain. You do a little twist on the myth, don't you - for it is he who has to pick her out of 150 swans...
I was just reading a cute article about how a little girl wrote a letter to Queen Elizabeth asking for an apology since one of the Queen's swans bit her. Apparently, there is a myth that the Queen owns all the swans in Britain, but it's really only a few mute ones - anyway, thought it made for good poetry.
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Thanks ea!
Yes I play a bit loose with the myth. She doesn't speak to him in the dreams either -- although I said she did. There's also a bunch about the family of Oengus tracking down the whereabouts of this dream maiden --with some associated mayhem along the way. Unless I am trying to do epic poetry, I try to be succinct. Thus, authenticity may suffer. Glad you liked the poem.
As for swans, you have to watch out for them. Remember Ledo?
Mac
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Y'know, I love this. I can't tell you why, I just do.
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Thank you, Mairi.
I am pleased this poem spoke to you.
Mac
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This is absolutely beautiful, my friend. I feel you have brought a legend to life with your well-chosen words and the poem has the distinctive air of the best Gaelic lyric poetry. Very well done indeed!
Bill
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Thank you, Liam.
Your kind words encourage this great-grandson of Erin. That I can write these Irish pieces and not get hooted off the stage by actual Irishmen, makes me feel that I am hitting close to the intended mark.
Mac
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