The Song Thrush, a Ballad in the Tradition of Irish Folklore and Legend.

Croaghaun

Croaghaun, the setting for my poem, is a mountain on the coast of the Isle of Achill in Ireland. However, this legend is purely an invention of the author, composed in the form of a ballad. It draws on some elements of Irish mythology, but there is no such legend to be found in Irish folklore. Achill (Eagle Island) is largely covered in peat bog. Common flowers and grasses include ling (heather), purple marsh grass, and bog asphodel. It is renowned for sudden weather changes with mists obscuring the landscape.

I am greatly indebted to James Bartlett, who kindly agreed to narrate the poem for me. I think you'll agree he has done me proud. He is a fine poet and storyteller in his own right.

The Song Thrushnarrated by James Bartlett

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The Song Thrush

originally published in Gallimaufry by Antony Fawcus. (Ginninderra Press 2017)

Maeve lightly tripped across the moor

as lark song filled the air,

a liquid spill of sunlit notes

to match her golden hair.

She skirted bogs of asphodel

to keep her lover's tryst,

where grasses wave their purple heads,

as soft as Achill mist.

Brown waters of a mountain stream

swirled past her, over scree,

so lithe, alive with dragonflies

and elfin mystery.

Its laughter matched the love that surged

in her expectant breast,

as up the mountainside she climbed

the path to Croaghaun's crest,

for there before the day was done,

'mongst lilac bells of ling,

she'd pledge her life to her true love,

and with the selkies sing.

But, as she gazed upon the moor,

a swirling wisp of cloud

began to cloak familiar rocks

beneath its cotton shroud.

Expecting her true love to come

to wrap her in his arms,

she kept her watch on Croaghaun's crag

suppressing growing qualms.

At length she left the meeting place

to search for her leannán.

As daylight faded into gloom,

her hopes sank with the sun.

Then Sith, the grey-winged faerie child

with eyes of em'rald green,

began a song whose words beguiled

young Maeve, the sweet colleen.

With spells she wove a silken thread

of lies to lead astray,

and feigned the curlew's plaintive cry

to lure Maeve from the way.

In frantic search she tripped and fell

into a stagnant pool,

and sank beneath the drowned moonlight;

a ghoulish death and cruel.

At dawn upon the keening wind,

A white-tailed eagle flew

And spied a glint of gold upon

The silver veil of dew.

He swooped and took her in his claws,

in lands of youth to dwell,

where she became the mavis bird

a song thrush, philomel.

Now, in the Spring, the mavis bird

nests in a rowan tree

with feathered leaves and berries red;

the bane of false faerie.

Cheers! I hope you enjoyed my poem and Jim's narration.

Some notes:

A selkie is a mythical creature resembling a seal that takes human form on land.

'leannan' is a Gaelic word for sweetheart.

'colleen' is an Irish word meaning 'country girl'.

Sith is derived from the Gaelic word for 'faerie'.

Both Maeve and Mavis are Irish names derived from the Gaelic for a song thrush (T. Philomelos).

The Land of Youth is an Irish expression that roughly equates to heaven.

Song Thrush image by Taco Meeuwsen from Hellevoetsluis, The Netherlands