Crimson’s Creative Challenge #34
He saw a woman at the ford
a wicker basket, hard ridged board
but this, mid-summer, and cloudless sky
the river at that ford ran dry.
He heard the woman start to drone
an ancient song with words unknown
a chant perhaps in verses three
a chant to set the waters free.
He stood a while and as he watched
from beyond that ford, the waters rushed
then knelt she with her linens blooded
and scrubbed them in the ford that flooded.
An ancient story filled his mind
of the Morrigan and Cúchulainn
of deaths this woman did foretell;
and in the distance heard he the knell.
The fool man stood so long in gaping
That around that corner a car came racing.
Ask not for whom that death bell tolls
For that washerwoman gathers souls.
Wordcount 131
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #34
crispina kemp 
Whew! That is excellent!
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I thank you, Violet. Bit longer than my usual pieces, but needed the length to get it all in.
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Brilliant, Crispina!
Every time you supply a green path with a gate, I get stuck, fearing I shall become redundant. You, however, take us on a journey!
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I don’t mean to cause you the tremors. And I thank you for your very flattering comment. It’s grounded in an Irish myth I particularly like,
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Ha ha ha… Nah… No tremors. Just a lack of imagination. It will come, I like to think.
Loved it.
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Look forward to reading it. 🙂
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Nudge, nudge 😉
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Big smiles.
I’m up and around the coast today. Gonna go where they grow cliffs and have shingle beaches. North Norfolk Ridge.
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Sweet..enjoy!!
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I thank you. Two long bus rides. And it’s gonna be hot. But I simplu love Sheringham, and it’s so long since I’ve been there. I’m gonna feed my camera!
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Lucky for us!!
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Well I hope so. It’s what the tourist brochures call an *unspoilt fishing village*, though it’s more of a town. Quaint.
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Cute. 😉
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I’ll post some photos … when I can find a slot for them. 🙂 Right now, I’m tired from the travel
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I can well imagine.
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Yea. Tired and hungry and determined to catch up on posts and comments before I attend to the food
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I am reading stuff that is over a week old… I was just too busy/tired/stuck with no electricity in my living room and stuck sitting on my bed with laptop on lap… ugh.
Now, all is back to normal so I can move forward.
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Gosh, no electricity. Bad enough when the internet goes down. But I suppose I’ve been there, for various reasons at various times. To go without sharpens the appreciation when you get it again.
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At least it only affected half of the house!
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That’s all right, then 🙂
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And I’m a fan of this one, too. Myth and reality, the ancient and the modern, appropriately intertwined.
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I thank you, Brian. I liked the idea of bringing the old myth into the present. And of course, although Cuchulainn is Irish, the washerwoman harbringer of death is also found in Scotland.
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Aye, I’ve just been rereading Yeats’ “Fairy and Folk Tales of Ireland” and nodding at the similarities to Scottish legends.
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But of course. Though for three unrelated reasons. First, in C5th the Irish ‘Scotti’ (pirates) settled Western Scotland … and later gave it its name. Second, the Vikings settled both Ireland and Scotland. Third, when the England stamped its heavy boot on Ireland, they invited the Scots to settle as plantation workers. Lo, back and forth they went, taking their tales with them.
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Which on a personal level is how my maternal grandmother’s life unfolded, yet another part of that back-and-forth migration.
Pirates and Vikings — we have such illustrious ancestors. If only we had transported criminals, we could have been Australians!
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Like that. Caused me a grin and a chuckle.
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Wow! Fantastic poem!
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I thank you, Susan.
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A wonderfully provocative poem and story. Thank you.
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I thank you, Jen. Like the river in winter, it flowed
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This is absolutely wonderful, Crispina! I love all your poems, but this I think is my favourite so far 🙂
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In form, it more resembles the poems I was writing in my 20s. More of a folksong than a ditty. 🙂
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What a great poem dear.
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I thank you
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My pleasure.🌷
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Such a great image, that washerwoman at the ford, conjuring the water to wash her bloodied sheets – love that! And the poor, distracted soul who becomes her next victim – excellent. Love the metre, the imagery (at once ancient and modern, timeless) and just the feel you’ve managed to create. Just fab
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I thank you, Lynn. It’s another case of the elements gathering together even as I wrote it. It wasn’t in my head, at least not in that form, when I started it. Serendipity.
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I really loved it. Could read something longer like this. Just up my street, with a touch of magic and a big dollop of history
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I enjoyed writing it, and although I did trim it, I doubt if this could have run for much longer.
Glad you like. It means much, coming from you.
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Ooh, I loved it! So atmospheric. I guess to make it longer we’d have to have other strands of plot, other story lines – but I’d definitely read it 🙂
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Nah, that’s as long as it’s getting. For now. Perhaps I’ll revisit… one day
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Excellent poem.
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I thank you. It’s kind of cobbled together from several influences and unlike that ford, brought bang up to date
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I love this Crispina – love the sense of myth and magic behind it.
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I thank you, Andrea. It kinda took off in its own direction. You know how it is. 🙂
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I love the mythological elements in this piece; it meshes well with the horns of the car so I’m not completely caught unaware or was surprised by its appearance. Beautifully written!
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I thank you. I enjoyed writing it. Though it was one of those that, once started, took its one directions, regardless of my initial intent. 🙂
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Well, writing is an organic process and it sometimes evolves as we go along. I have experience that before, when the product is wildly different from what I have in mind 🙂
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Frequently.
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I love poetry with a story. Both flowed seamlessly. This is wonderful Crispina….
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I thank you. And you’re right, it flowed … from my mind; it wasn’t my first intention. 🙂
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