Gillichattan Mor
In the ancient
When man and woman according to the lore,
Did speak to the animals, the trees, and more.
Oh, the great standing stones of Alantor.
Equinox at the rise of the Sun of Beltaine
Long before the magic began to wane,
The Elder Gods who so long did reign,
Brought the spirit and bounty of the rain.
Érie, the Earth Goddess sought eternal love
With Lug of the Golden Fire from above.
The golden fire of Lug, God of the Sun,
Sent his spirit to Érie of Earth and Dun.
Life-spirit from sacred springs did abound,
As trees and vines sprouted from the ground
Giving spirit-life to all animals humble and regal,
Vole, stoat, stag, bear, human and eagle.
But the ancient magic did not survive,
As a new God, not dead and not alive,
Took away ancient spirits that did dwell
In fen, in loch, in forest, and in dell.
Padraig of Cymbria did lure and deceive
The people away from Érie, Lug, and Nieve.
Ancient Gods and Goddesses were banned by fear.
Poetry withered; magic died; hate killed cheer.
The ancient times when humans were a part
Of the natural world as the hind and the hart,
Have been suppressed by the priest who does rule
By guilt and fear, cursing nature; an ignorant fool.
Some day the Sun will shine again at Beltaine
And the spirit of light, and wind, and rain
Will signal the rebirth of the ancient reign.
Druii poetry and wisdom will never again wane.
I will rejoin true nature in my proper place.
My cousin, the salmon, trout, and dace;
And my brother the cat, the bear, and dog
Will welcome me back to Tir nan Og.
Among the tall stone circles of Alantor
Some day I will stand before the door
To the beautiful otherworld of the mystic fog
There to enter the magic land of Tir nan Og.
©
George W. Wambaugh, Jr.
2001
A Visit With Great-grandmother
Catherine Kreiner Lentz
b.
I remember it being a nice spring or fall day. My mother, Agatha, took my brother and me to see our great-grandmother at her home. My remembrances are of a little girl about age 7 or 8 years of age. Her house was big and smelled of old things – wood, polish and cooking. She was a large, imposing woman with grey hair pulled back in a bun. Grandmother wore a flowered house dress and old people’s black leather, tied-up shoes. I recall she had a large, red, bulbous nose that fascinated me. How did it get that way? A little girl’s musings.
We went into her kitchen with my Mom. Grandmother Lentz offered my brother and me a cookie. My Mom led us to sit down by a window at a little table with old-fashioned curtains draped in soft folds. The window looked out on the garden. The sun shone through the window - the old-fashioned curtains - lighting the room with brightness and warmth. Grandmother went into her walk-in pantry to get us some cookies. They were big, homemade and delicious! This is but one snapshot from the past.
©
Letitia Wambaugh
2001
SWEETHEARTS
Hand-in-hand
we walked through lover's lanes.
Hand-in-hand
we met all of life's pains.
In
joy too, our hands were twined in love;
Each to the other a constant treasure trove.
Life
beckoned on, through country bleak and dry
To the valley of the shadow. Yet, she and I
Together
hand-in-hand walked unafraid,
And
at the darkest hour, her hand in His I laid.
O,
Bridegroom! Your Love will guard my treasure,
Even
so, Lord, come take me at your pleasure,
And
lead me to that mansioned promised land,
Where
once again she'll come and take my hand.
© Julian Greene
They Come
We stand in the garden
And they come
Squirrels, birds, raccoons
Butterflies, spiders
Crawl, fly and walk
And they come
They fill our world
With wonder, joy
Connection
And they come.
No pesticides
No herbicides
To kill, maim
And they come.
Trust unbroken
Our spirits soar.
An unspoken interlacing
And they come.
Food nourishes
Overgrowing bramble
A small safe haven
And they come.
Yearning for wild
Places disappearing.
Our little woodland
Nurtures, shelters
And they come.
No words necessary
An ancient silent language
We are one
And they come.
© Letitia Wambaugh
2001
1947 Memories: Cousin Betty
Wow, I'm 5 years old. I
live with my Mom & Dad in a really neat house
with white
shingles and green shutters. It has a very large basement where
I can even ride my bike around.
Also, in this basement is a coal bin,
full of black
coal for heating our home. I fell in
some one day and got a
small piece of
that coal embedded in my knee.
My grandmother and grandfather, Frank and Elizabeth (Lizzie, as
she was
known) Hoeckel
live with us. They sure do love me. My grandfather buys
me
bubblegum and my grandmother crochets a lot.
Before I was born (1942),
she made a
pretty "carriage cover" for me. (IT IS NOW 60 YEARS OLD AND
USED FOR THREE (3) families (Hoeckel, Fair & Penn) AND WILL
CONTINUE TO BE
PASSED DOWN THROUGH MORE GENERATIONS.)
This house has high steps in the front. I sit there with my grandmother.
In the backyard, there is a garage and a driveway. On the side, there is
a hammock,
hung between two trees. I like this a
lot!
My Mom washes sheer curtains and hangs them on "curtain
stretchers". What
a funny
name! They were wooden frames with lots
and lots of little pins
protruding
all around and you had to attach the sheer curtains to all of
them to keep
them from shrinking and wrinkling. Mom had
a wringer washing
machine. She used something call "pants
creasers" for my Dad's pants.
They were metal frames and fit the full length of the legs and
gave the
pants a
crease.
My Dad had a "Dark Room" for his photography in the
basement. He had
solutions
for mixing, trays for developing and an enlarger for making
pictures
bigger. He took lots of pictures of
everyone in our family and
even made our
own Christmas Cards.
Birthday parties were always a big event with lots of friends and
family to
share and make memories. Life was good.
© Elizabeth Fair
2001