Alerted one frosty morning by the sad howling of the
cloistered hound,
Where upon the icy Abbey steps, the wicker basket, the
old Abbot found,
There deep
within, lay the baby snuggled & wrapped in a blanket of rose,
There she lay quiet without a sound, content in her
state of sweet repose,
Blinking her eyes, of which she had one of slate grey &
one of jade green,
The old Abbot said, “You’re the strangest creature
that I have ever seen”.
She was finally adopted at three by a lonely couple of
a fair advanced age,
She spent long days frolicking alone with the bees in
fields of lilac & sage,
At school the other kids thought she was peculiar
& somewhat very odd,
While she spoke of her imaginary friends who lived in
that place with God,
But she was happy, playing with her pixies, goblins,
the little elves & gnomes,
Insisting to everyone that these beings allowed her
into their tiny wee homes.
The wily child grew into the mysterious maiden with
the melancholic dreams,
Far-away expression on her face & always writing
sad poetry in ribbony reams,
“She´s a strange one”, agreed her friends, everyone
without exception, one & all,
This didn’t worry the maiden, without looking back;
she just walked down the hall,
Going to the place where she heard the voices of the
faces nobody had ever seen,
Unseen beings who were always close & unlike
humans, were never ever mean.
Maidenhood ended & motherhood arrived, following
the wedding band of gold,
With her babies’ arrival, the mother knew her heart
would never again feel cold,
She took them with her on her fantastical journeys
into to magical fairylands afar,
They all swam with nymphs & with sylphs they all
flew away to the midnight stars,
She told her babies stories & showed them that
there were many other worlds,
Beyond closed mind & blinkered eye, deep within
the heart, waiting to be unfurled.
The mother became the strange old woman who was
widowed & then lived alone,
With only a one eyed cat to keep her company & to
share her small neat little home,
It was rumoured that she chanted with the Druids &
that she casts dark & ugly spells,
And that from her blackened cauldron, there emitted
strange, exotic & herbal smells,
They say she flies upon a broomstick to the midnight &
faraway creamy round moon,
But the strange old woman just laughs loudly & then
walks proudly out of the room.
Her children were called to her bedside, now her time to
go was clearly very near,
Knowing she was going to die, she awaited death with patience,
yet without any fear,
Her sons looked into her wise strange eyes, one of slate
grey & the other jade green,
And they asked her, “Mother, what is in your eyes, what
is it that you have just seen?”
She smiled & told them that she was off to rumble with
Angels, far above in the sky,
“Earthlings are so strange”, she whispered, then she left
this strange earth with a sigh.
