Mudcat Poetry Corner

Subject: The Spindle's Thread
From: GUEST,Nicola Carter
Date: 23 Jul 24 - 11:59 AM

A few people have asked for this. Enjoy.

The Spindle’s Thread.

Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Old hands work with practised skill.
Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Daughter of my Daughter listen to me well.

When green spring comes and the Red Kites soar
And music flows from the hollow hills
The Lord of the Fair Folk holds his court.
The silken web of an ancient dance.
He reaches out his hand to you,
His sky-blue eyes invite you in.
Daughter of my Daughter do not dance with him,
For he will steal your youth away.

Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Recalling memories of a long past day.
Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Daughter of my Daughter listen to me well.

When summer comes to the close green wood
And owls glide on silent wings.
Carried on the night breeze,
soft as loving, sweet as honey,
The song of silver bridle bells ring out.
The Lord of the Fair Folk rides the night.
Do not look into his moss green eyes
For he will wake desires,
Longings that the wise should shun.
Daughter of my Daughter heed him not
For he will be your ruin.

Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Living memory of a long past love.
Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Daughter of my Daughter listen to me well.

When Autumn comes with harvest rich
And hares race on golden fields.
When stars glitter in the frosty night
The wild hunt rides.
The Lord of the Fair Folk, crowned with russet leaves.
His eyes brown as a peat bog ready to suck you in.
Daughter of my Daughter bar the doors, build up the fire
Or he will hunt you down.

Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Weep anew for love betrayed.
Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Daughter of my Daughter listen to me well.

When winter comes tasting of tin
And snow like lace drifts softly down
Then I shall wait by the salt sea shore.
Old hands spinning threads of life.
The Lord of the Fair Folk will greet me as an equal there
My love, my life, my fate.
And then at last I will look into his sea-grey eyes.

Drop the spindle, tease the thread.
Drop the spindle, cut the thread.

Copyright © Nicola Carter
Written 9 Feb 2024

Subject: Look for me at Samhain
From: GUEST,Nicola Carter
Date: 31 Oct 24 - 11:14 AM

This was written some time ago, but today seems a fitting day to post it on ....

Look for me at Samhain (from Year Song)

Look for me at Samhain my love.
When leaves form a cloth of copper and of gold.
Evening mists rise from river and from field,
Engulfing old stone walls.
A soft cocoon to seal off time and space.

Look for me at Samhain my love,
As shades of evening fall
and owls glide on silent wings.

A fire burns on the hearth,
Apple wood scented.
The silence broken only by the ticking of the clock,
the crackle of logs,
As you sit alone in firelight dappled shadows.

The veil between the worlds wears thin.
A liminal time.
A time for memories and the spirits of the dead.

Look for me at Samhain my love.
Keep my Year’s Mind.
Feel once more my touch,
A gentle caress,
A kiss brushing your hair.
Hair more silver now than gold.
Hear my whispered words of love.

Keep green the memory of our years together.
Our courtship in our days of youth,
Life stretched out before us,
full of hope and possibilities.
Our wedding night when all was new.
Our welcome for our first born son.
Our hands clasped on our daughter’s wedding day.

Look for me at Samhain my love.
See pictures in the fire.
The years passing as we grew together,
the good times and the bad.
Love changing, becoming gentler.
But no less constant,
no less deep.

Look for me at Samhain my love.
One final night of comfort, yet of sorrow too.
One final night,
Until the dawn’s first blush.
Then I must leave again.
But only for a little while,
Until I come to bring you home.

Copyright © 2023 Nicola Carter