I’ll tell ye a yarn of days of old When swords were heavy and castles cold. Or yarns of the sailor types And fishermen as common as snipes. Then there’s the yarn for the Knit and Natter. And the crochet ladies with hooks to batter. The sailors as they yarn their sails And fishermen telling yarns of Whales. Damsels sewing yarn in their tapestry Locked in chastity belts dying for a pee. The Knights returning to their castles cold. Regaling them with yarns so bold. So I’ll tell you a yarn bright and new I shall spin you a yarn, because thats what I do.
Macha (Irish pronunciation: [ˈmaxə]) is a goddess of ancient Ireland, associated
with war, horses, sovereignty, and the sites of Armagh and Eamhain Mhacha in County Armagh,
which are named after her. A number of figures called Macha appear in Irish mythology, legend
and historical tradition, all believed to derive from the same deity. The name is presumably
derived from Proto-Celtic *makajā denoting “a plain” (genitive *makajās “of the plain”). rea more on Wiki
APOTHEOSES – Angels of Mons :
During World War One there was a widespread belief
in Britain that some form of supernatural intervention saved allied troops during
the retreat from Mons. Since the war this event, generally known as the “Angel of Mons”
has been variously used as evidence of supernatural intervention in combat, an example
of a collective hallucination or as an urban myth unwittingly originated by a piece of fiction.
The most prosaic explanation is that the Angel was no more than a misinterpretation of odd cloud
formations seen by weary troops. The only thing that most theories agree on is that something strange
happened during the retreat from Mons in August 1914 and that this was witnessed by British
(and possibly German) troops. However, a re-reading of the evidence puts even this most basic point of
convergence in doubt and raises the possibility that the story of the Angel owes more to military expedience
than divine providence. Read more
Thomas the Rhymer Steele Eye Span
Do you believe in fairies? The inhabitants of the Borders at the time of the Border ballads did …
Thomas of Ercildoune lived in the Borders hundreds of years ago. One day, as he sat beneath the Eildon Tree near Melrose,
he heard the tinkling of silver bells and the sound of a horse’s hooves. The beautiful Queen of Elfland rode by on a white horse.
Thomas fell under her spell and journeyed deep within the hollow Eildon Hills to the ‘Fairy Otherworld’. There, Thomas was given
the gift of prophesy.
When he returned to the mortal world he found that he had certain gifts: he was unable to tell a lie and became known as
‘True Thomas’; he could foresee the future and foretold the death of King Alexander III;
some even say that Thomas became immortal and still lives gathering horses for the sleeping knights that rest deep within the hollow hills.
there is some disagreement over what actually constitutes Wicca. Some traditions, collectively referred to as British Traditional Wicca, strictly follow the initiatory lineage of Gardner and consider the term Wicca to apply only to such lineaged traditions, while other eclectic traditions do not.
This poem is completely from my imagination. Arthur and Boadicea where in fact not from the same era but I would of love Arthur to have ridden in with his brave knights and assisted her ……….. what a tale this would be . I delicate this tale to the sister of my friend Martin and to http://saminaiqbal27.wordpress.com/ who loves a Arthurian myth.
I see the future it is dark, battles blood and fear
I feel our days are numbered I know our enemies draw near.
I draw my daughters to me I shall defend them to the end.
I have sent out for help and begged for aid from Arthur King of the Brittons, my friend.
I have called upon my people from all corners of my land.
I have warned them of the my bad feelings, I have told them trouble is at hand.
I call all of my Iceni Tribe. The Roman’s are coming and they will brook no resistance
Hark I hear the Legions marching feet approaching us in the distance.
My husband is still ruling , a ruler in name only I fear, Prasutagus my lord
Don’ t trust these Roman men they only want our lands and wealth
We need help from Arthur, and his knights to route these invaders from abroad!
My husband is weak he is ill, he cannot last much longer in his ill health.
Damn those Romans Damn them to hell. I shall find a witch and have her cast on them a black spell.
They stripped me naked and flogged me to within an inch of my life
Then they made me watch as they raped my daughters damn them, damn them to hell.
Where is Arthur where are his Knights where are they when I need them in my hour of strife.
I shall not let them beat me this Roman Army I shall not let them lay my lands to waste.
Where are you Arthur I need you now, hear me great wise king I need you make hast.
Curse the ninth legion, they shall all die, we will cut their throats and I shall rip away their manhood and hang it high
I shall show them they cannot debase me Boadicea, and rape my daughters and not expect to die.
We shall fight them we shall lay them low at them at their capital Camulodunum !
Where is Arthur we need him now , suddenly the cry goes up Arthur , Arthur and his knights are here at last.
We shall slay those Romans we shall oust them now with Arthur Pendragon now the die is cast!
We beat them in their capital and then we beat them in Londinium and Verulamium .
So I Boadicea Queen of the Iceni thank you Arthur King of the Brittons
I have wrought my vengeance true I could not have done so without you.
We can no longer defeat the Roman hordes and there is only one thing left for me to do.
I shall poison myself and my daughter too , for those Romans to recapture us would never do.
I have my place in history I saw off those Roman’s with Arthur at the side of me.
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