Posted by: Kevan Manwaring | September 29, 2014

North of the Wall: Eildon Tree

Eildon Tree

The Rhymer's Stone - marking the spot of the Eildon Tree. Photograph copyright Kevan Manwaring 2014

The Rhymer’s Stone – marking the spot of the Eildon Tree.
Photograph copyright Kevan Manwaring 2014

Two slim trunks entwine like lovers.

Words, ripe as rowan berries

hang poised for the plucking

from the quickening air.

Here, at the Rhymer’s Stone

worlds meet

and poetry is born.

The sun shines its benedictions down,

a fey breeze stirs the trees.

A nameless bird sings,

is replied to.

Stillness after the city,

meeting the Muse for a coffee,

hoarse from the Fringe,

heartsore from love’s disappointments,

she points me the way on the battered road atlas –

three roads to choose from:

cairn or kirk or loch.

Roots snake deep into the peat,

draw up the sap of inspiration

conjured from the alchemy of

sunlight, rain, wind and night.

I lay like Thomas of Ercildoune on Huntlie Bank,

and the Queen of Elfland rides into view –

a woman cyclist in her lycra and helmet,

exchanging a bit of banter with two old characters

about the secrets of the gates

known only to them.

They had been sitting behind the hedge

putting the world to rights.

Had I overheard?

The Eildon Hills in the distance - and a visiting Bard on a Bike. Copyright Kevan Manwaring 2014

The Eildon Hills in the distance – and a visiting Bard on a Bike.
Copyright Kevan Manwaring 2014

Beneath the Eildons’ three peaks,

split it is said by a demon that

wizard Michael Scot confounded,

still to this day failing to make rope

from the sands of the Tweed,

the magical and the mundane rub shoulders.

The upper and lower get acquainted.

The unfathomable realms of man and woman,

the eternal mystery of their dance

come alive in timeless tableau.

Climb up behind the Queen,

let her guide you to her hidden kingdom.

The jingle of her rein sends you into a trance.

Long hair coiling, blood lips enticing,

the tendrils of her song

piercing your heart.

Follow her siren call

to the end of all that you know.

Be prepared to not be

the same upon your return.

The Rhymer's Stone photography copyright  Kevan Manwaring 2014

The Rhymer’s Stone
photography copyright Kevan Manwaring 2014

Kevan Manwaring Summer 2014

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Responses

  1. Thank you for this modern version of a poem for the queen of elfland. Very enticing, the queen on a bike. 🙂 A really interesting poem.
    And yes, I am a believer in the elves. Keep on with your work, bard.


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