Emerald Isle, Part 2 ...Beast of Bristles ....

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Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis

since 1999-11-08

Posts 9269
Pennsylvania

0 posted 2003-01-18 08:37 AM

Emerald Isle, Part 2

T’was on the Emerald Isle, they say
The day after the victory day
The Beast of Bristles had been slain
By gypsy youth without a name

The monster gone, the golden dream
Was now to claim the isle of green
The lad with gypsy potion wrenched
The isle left with monster’s stench

But green were valleys, hills and dale
With fertile soil left in his trail
And so they bore the horrid smell
That seemed a curse that spun from hell

The channel many did not cross
And ignorance would be their loss
For in a decade was dispelled
The stench of beast, the grisly spell

The ones who claimed the land of green
Saw things that never had been seen
The greenest fields, the swiftest streams
And ocean beach with sand that gleams

But greatest of the splendid prize
Were prisms forming in the skies
But no one knew the meaning of
The spectrum colors up above

For on this isle of green, you see
The first of rainbows came to be
And so they chose to celebrate
The gypsy youth who brought this fate

It must have been his magic spear
That caused a rainbow to appear
The very spear that struck the beast
Who’d made of man his nightly feast

They celebrated every time
A rainbow came to gently shine
Its magic colors in there eyes
The gypsy rover, king of skies!

Then one night as the village slept
There was a voice that softly crept
Into the dreams of everyone
A magic mystic song was sung

The meaning of the rainbow told
It pointed to a pot of gold!
And when they woke to certain truth
Again they praised the gypsy youth

Awaiting for the next display
Of rainbow colors in the day
Each wanting to be first to claim
The pot of gold in his own name

And then it happened as was said
The rainbow colors overhead
Were pointing to a jagged ledge
Til then ignored, it’s rocky edge

High on a hill that overlooked
The greenest field the gypsy took
They scrambled in a race to beat
The strongest legs, the swiftest feet

To reach and claim a pot of gold
That lay within a cavern’s hold
The strongest moved a boulder’s weight
The secret latch, the golden gate

And entered in the cave without
The least concern, the smallest doubt
The first were daring, brave and bold
Who found a pot made out of gold

Inside the pot, the swiftest legs
Would find a dozen hatching eggs
For once man passed through cavern’s latch
The bristled beasties were to hatch

And like the one that came before
With speed their bristles hit the core
Of every heart of every one
Who to the golden pot had come

From glistening day to twilight hour
Each soul in sight the beasts devoured
The others lived in dreaded fear
Of ever sailing ‘round or near

The paradise they tried to claim
The lovely Emerald Isle, by name
And so today we say in jest
There is a pot of gold that rests

At rainbow's red and purple end
Upon the isle of green, my friend

Elizabeth Santos

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

1 posted 2003-01-18 09:14 AM

Elizabeth! You are a Balladear!

Denise

Moderator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-08-22

Posts 22648

2 posted 2003-01-18 01:30 PM

A wonderful tale, Elizabeth! My, your talent knows no end!

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