Category Archives: albion

Light

* A circle open to the sky becomes a covered mound, Within, a tree now made of stone, casts shadows on the ground. The earth is changing as we pass, each footstep turns to gold The sky inverts reality, a … Continue reading

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On the Doorstep ~ Opening Doors

As we could not, due to COVID, gain access to visit Holy Trinity at Bledlow on our recent sortie, I will tell you about our previous visit… what we found… and what we missed… The door that has served Holy … Continue reading

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Carved

* A hollowed stone, baptismal well and caves of darkest night… Once more we find a secret hidden in the plainest sight; Where broken pillars signify Golgotha’s final doom Yet ancient wisdom echoes through the ever-silent womb. Continue reading at … Continue reading

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Circles

  * The Inner and the Outer hold a key to secrets sought Through maze of alleys leading to the circled temple court, Where wingéd horse lends flight to feet and horses carry two, And sleeping knights bear witness to … Continue reading

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All Hail Eve…

Anu’s Folk studied in the North-Isles. Four seats there and four sages who taught them; A plentiful sowing… A dutiful flowing… A beautiful glowing… An artful knowing… * Continue reading at France and Vincent

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Bally’s Tale: Treasure of Tara…

* …Many years later, in the reign of Art-mac-Conn, at the festival of Samhuin, the Master Poets came to the feast, as was their custom, and they brought their tablets of poetry with them… * When king Art saw the … Continue reading

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Bally’s Tale: Apple and Yew…

* …Afterwards the same uncanny man went to the south and accosted Elaine as she was resting from her travels in a sun-trap. “From whence do you come and where are you heading, unknown?” said Elaine. “From the mouth of … Continue reading

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The Tale of Bally-mac-Buan…

* Bally ‘sweet-speech’ the renowned story teller secretly arranged to tryst with Elaine, daughter of king Fergus. The one from Ulster, the other from Leinster… Both set out to meet at Ross-na-Ree on the south side of the river Boyne. … Continue reading

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Painted

* Incongruous in Yorkshire stone and sleepy market town Where unexpected masterwork still wears His thorny crown Where history, both false and true, unfolds upon the walls And legend, faith and memory adorn its hallowed halls. Continue reading at France … Continue reading

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What am I?

* When ravens in battle torment’s torn flesh fight… Morvran, my horse, firm-hoofed in stance Is indisposed to flight. * Splendid my saddle and bright, never sore Polished my ring, blameless, pure. * Continue reading at France and Vincent

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