Category Archives: Stuart France

Sun, Moon and Stars…

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… “Before Ogma, I swear.
Before Sun and Moon and Stars,
before Sky, Land and Sea, I swear.
Before the Sidhe-Folk, I swear…

Defenders of the land,
victory and defeat are created in each of you.

What I ask of you in dealing with this foe
is not the work of cowards.

Our hosting in this conflict
will defeat those who have destroyed
the prosperity of the land.

Circling leftward I curse them!

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Rod of Aspen
End Measure
Sod of End
Fuagh!

May the foe-men be hindered.
May fear be heard among them.
The End-Time has taken form.

Ravens will come upon our foe with doom,
and be their shared torment.

Their end goes before us to the foe;
they are mournful and doomed.

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O, my Warrior Band;
my most warlike host,
in the burning fields of battle,
High-Folk will sustain your form in the clouds of the sky.

O you, my Glorious Ones,
a nine-fold brightness is upon us,
through the powerful skill of our men-of-art,
the battle fire will not falter until victory is won.

My Troops, greatest of sea-like hosts,
here in the beauty of the land,
a frenzy of battle invites you to embrace fate.

With mighty waves of golden, powerful, burning fires,
and battle lust may you seek out your foe upon the field,
embracing fate in a frenzy of battle.”

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Forever Falls…

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I was here

When Ronald took the hot seat.

I watched from afar,

Appalled,

When he called

Diana, David

And stumbled over lines which in

His day of hay

He would have chewed like baccy.

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His image truly spat…

A vacation brain

Which sunned itself

In shades,

While military aides

Loaded up

A flip top cranium

With pencil tipped

Uranium.

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This man’s unsuitability,

Was scary…

The political situation

Much worse than hairy,

The fear of being nuked

Had become real enough

To make grown men puke,

But in our hour of need

Came scions after another creed.

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They sang of tribes

That fight for points

And of factions whose only destiny

Was to end as fractions

And followed this up with the power of love

To save us all from the hooded claw

Or so it seemed

To those still watching

From afar.

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So, send them all in…

There have to be clowns.

Something round…

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“How old is it?”

“How old is what?”

“The Turnip Lantern Tradition?”

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“It is truly ancient.”

“That is good.”

“There appear to be others who agree with you.”

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“A heartening sight.”

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“A truly heartening sight, although it may need more.”

“How much more do you mean?”

“To affect change people will have to become pro-active.”

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And with that…

The Grey Hobbit…

Ran off, through the trees…

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…and disappeared back…

down it’s Hobbit-Hole.

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Crocodile Man…

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Crocodile Man was married to Whistle Duck and they had two daughters…

“We’ll have fish tomorrow night,” said Crocodile Man, “I’ll go out early in my bark canoe.”

So next morning Crocodile Man set off, and his two daughters went to collect swamp grass to go with the fish.

Whistle Duck also left camp making sure her daughters did not see her.

The two sisters collected the swamp food and returned to camp.

The younger of the two girls saw their father returning and called out to him, “Father we will come and collect the fish!”

“No!” said Crocodile Man, “just send your elder sister to collect the fish.”

So the elder daughter went down to her father who had beached his canoe at the edge of a creek. When she started to unload the fish Crocodile Man copulated with her. The girl’s younger sister saw this and so did her mother who remained hidden, watching.

The fish was cooked and eaten and Crocodile Man and his family fell asleep.

The next morning Crocodile Man again set out in search of fish whilst his daughters went to collect swamp food.

This time, while they were gone, Whistle Duck collected dried grass and began to roll it on her thigh in order to make a rope.

Upon the return of her daughters to camp with swamp food Whistle Duck hid the rope she was making in a hole and covered it with paperbark.

All proceeded as before with Crocodile Man returning to the creek  fish-laden and calling for his eldest daughter with whom he then copulated.

Before eating the communal meal Whistle Duck set aside some of the food that her daughters had collected.

On the third day Crocodile Man and his daughters again set out in search of food as before.

Every day they were going farther and farther afield to find food and it was taking them much longer to return to camp.

Whistle Duck worked on her dried grass rope while they were gone and on the return of her daughters she again hid it and added lily roots, which was some of the food they had collected, to her growing store.

Crocodile Man returned late, called for his eldest daughter and copulated with her before they all sat down to eat.

The next morning after Crocodile Man had set out in search of fish, Whistle Duck  sent her daughters to pull up a banyan tree and return to her when they had done so.

“What are we to do with the banyan tree?” asked the younger daughter upon their return.

“Your father is always copulating with your sister,” said Whistle Duck, removing the grass rope from under the paperbark.

“What are we to do?” asked the elder daughter.

“Look at this Dreaming,” said Whistle Duck, “it is the Milky Way Rope.”

The two daughters looked at it and became giddy.

Their eyes span around in their head.

When they had recovered they knew what to do.

They collected the store of food into baskets and took up the shade of the banyan tree.

Whistle Duck threw the grass rope into the sky and her daughters quickly shimmied up it.

The elder daughter climbed first with her younger sister and then her mother behind.

They all sat down under the shade of the banyan tree with their store of food and Whistle Duck pulled up the rope to form the extent of the Milky Way in the sky.

When Crocodile Man returned from his fishing trip he called out from his canoe but no one answered.

He clambered ashore and walked up the creek to his camp but there was no one there.

Only the sound of crows could be heard…

“Waag…Waag…Waag…”

‘What has happened to those girls,’ thought Crocodile Man.

‘Has someone abducted them?’

‘Has someone killed them?’

‘Has their mother taken them away?’

Crocodile Man called out for Whistle Duck.

He ran around the camp, searching, and found only ant tracks…

Crocodile Man’s younger daughter called down from the sky, “Father, I am here!”

“What should I do?” said Crocodile Man.

“Go fetch the fish and bring it up here,” said the younger daughter lowering the grass rope.

So Crocodile Man brought the fish and began to climb the grass rope.

Whistle duck reached behind her ear, pulled out a large mussel shell, and began to cut the grass rope.

The younger daughter did not want her father to fall so she grabbed the large mussel shell and hid it from her mother.

But Whistle Duck pulled a small mussel shell out from behind her other ear and carried on cutting the grass rope.

The grass rope frayed and snapped just as Crocodile Man was nearing the top with the fish. Before he fell Whistle Duck grabbed the fish from him.

The place where Crocodile Man fell back to earth is his Dreaming.

He crawled off back to the creek on his injured knees and became a crocodile.

Whistle Duck and her two daughters remained in the Milky Way.

Adapted from R.M and  C.H Bernt, The Speaking Land.

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Names Matter: vittles…

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…The king he were a comin’ down the street an he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hare, so he stopped and said: ‘What were that you was a singun of, maw’r?’…

…The woman, she were ashamed to let him hare what her darter had been a doin’, so she sang, ‘stid o’ that:
‘My daughter ha’ spun five, five skeins to day, my darter ha’ spun five, five skeins today…’
‘S’ars o’ mine!” said the king, ‘I never heerd tell of any on as could do that.’

Then he said; ‘Look here, I want a wife, and I’ll marry your darter, but mind now ‘leven months o’ the year she shall ha’ all the vittles she likes to eat, and all the gownds she likes to git, and all the cumpny she likes to hev; but that las’ month o’ the year she’ll ha’ to spin five skeins iv’ry day, an if she doon’t she’ll loose her hid.’
‘All right,’ says the woman: for she thowt what a grand marriage that was. And as for them five skeins, when te come tew, there’d be plenty o’ ways of getting owt of it, and likeliest, he’d ha’ forgot about it.’

So they was married.

An’ for leven months the gal had all the vittles she liked to ate, and all the gownds she liked to git, an’ all the cumpny she liked to hev.
But when the time was gettin’ oover, she began to think about them there skeins an’ to wonder if he had ‘em in mind. But not one word did he say about ‘em an’ she whoolly thowt he’d forgot ‘em.
Howsivir, the last day o’ the last month, he takes her to a room she’d niver set eyes on afore. There worn’t nothing in it but a spinnin’ wheel and a stool. An’ says he, ‘Now, me dare, hare yow’ll be shut in tomorrow with some vittles and some flax and if you hain’t spun five skeins by the night, yar hid’ll goo off.’
An’ awa’ he went about his business…

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to be continued…

Names Matter…

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“What’s your name? Why, it’s pudding and tame.
And if you ask me again I’ll tell you the same.”
Children’s Rhyme.

Once there were a woman and she baked five pies. When they came out of the oven they was that over baked, the crust were too hard to eat.

So, she says to her darter.
‘Maw’r,’ says she, ‘put you them there pies on the shelf an’ leave ‘em there a little, an they’ll come agin’.

But the gal, she says to her self, ‘Well, if they’ll come agin anyway, I’ll ate ‘em now.’

And she set to work and ate ‘em all, first and last…

…Well, come supper time the woman she said, ‘Goo you and git one o’ them there pies. I dare say they’ve came agin now.’
The gal she went an’ she looked, tho’ she already knowd what she’d find ‘cos there warn’t nothin’ but the dishes. So back she come and says she, ‘Noo they ain’t come agin.’
‘What, not none on ‘em?’ says the mother.
‘No, not none on ‘em,’ says she.
‘Well, come agin, or not come agin,’ says the woman, ‘I’ll ha’ one for supper.’
‘But you can’t, if they ain’t come,’ says the gal.
‘But I can,’ says she, ‘Goo you and bring the best of ‘em.’
‘Best or worst,’ says the gal, ‘I’ve ate ‘em all, and you can’t ha’ one till that’s come agin.’
Well, the woman she were wholly bate, and she took her spinnin’ to the door to spin, and as she span she sang:
‘My darter ha’ ate five, five pies today, my darter ha’ ate five, five pies today…’

to be continued…