Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 116
Posted: December 23rd. 2003 5:02:27 AM
The Old Folk of the Hill
by Jemma Hawtrey
Age Group: Adult
The country is quiet
The birds do not shrill
The trees they are watchful
As Cold, he glides through them
And takes what he will
A man, he stands silent
Alone on the hill
Cloaked in the green
‘gainst winters dark chill
His thoughts travel back
Over many long years
And his hands shiver gently
With the palsy of laughter,
The palsy of tears.
He calls to the living
To those birds and the trees
He calls to the people, that he holds dear.
And wishes them all a good end to their year
He calls to those passed
Those of memory’s stock
Those who live in the living alone
Though their time is now over,
They’re our anchors in time,
Our long-standing rock.
A rustling of steps sounds through the wood.
The man, he half turns and raises his hood
She watches him silent with like line’d eyes
With silent acceptance they take hands
And walk slowly, bowed over, through cold silent lands
Soon, more steps come rustling,
Soft through the wood
Some slow and infirm,
Speak of age and of pain
Some quick, energetic,
Speak of health that is good.
The fire is kindled
And the gathering made
The reflections glinting
From gold figured Torc,
and ritual blade.
When greetings are over
And cold bodies are warm
The old couple rise
And call to order the swarm
They all stand attentive
The old and the young
The woman with child;
And the life just begun
He stands tall and smiles
No longer alone
She watches the children
“My, how they’ve grown.”
“We stand here in honour
Of those gone before
Those of our line
And those of our lore.”
“For this is the dark time
The end of one year
A time when the life,
Held deep in the ground,
Seems not to be here
“It is also a beginning
A picture of green
In the blanket of white.
A promise of warmth,
In the cold of the night”
“We came here in honour
And leave in the same.
Playing our parts in
Natures long game”
“We live and we die
And we live once again
In the friends left behind,
A young child’s smile may bring us to mind.”
“Come, the fire it dies now,
And the time passes on.
This night of the spirits
Will soon be but memory, its vitality gone”
“So pass by the fire and dance close and fast
As the sun rises eastern and the night breathes its last,
And come morning depart here and pray leave no mark,
As if here had been just the dance of the dark”
The sun it has risen and the feast cleared away
The fire is doused and friends go on their way
The old priest he pauses and again looks behind
To an old man all alone on the ridge of a hill.
The man, he stands silent and alone on the hill
Cloaked in the green ‘gainst winters dark chill
But a young girl stands with him with long blood red hair
She slips from the hold of his hand at her waist
Turns and waves with a smile on her pale figured face
So you aren’t alone now, old friend of mine
Your lover with whom we shared laughter, and wine
Has left us and joins you, I see the smile in your eyes
Watch the dance of your pleasure, this Samhain time.
And to those all who know them, the old folk of the hill..
They smile, and they dance, and they watch over you still
Author's Notes: This just sort of happened. I had written other bits & peices beforehand, but this one is much longer and more expressive than those.
Drop me a line with your comments
have a good yule/xmas season and a happy new year
Walk in light
Author's Location: Colchester, England
More Poems: Jemma Hawtrey has posted 70 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Jemma Hawtrey - Click HERE
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