Land of Shi(resub with notes & Samhuinn*)Halloween
by Robin Ouzman Hislop — Read all 170 poems by Robin Ouzman Hislop
Sad, the poem wasnt commented on except by one person at AD for its the rhyme inovation. It follows from Ian Thorpe's recent ballad submission, on NP where he pointed out Beck, as a north English word for Border.I added by way of correspondence that Shire ( name of many British Counties) derives with the Irish Shi, namely Faire Land. Also Meer in North England (runic saxon) meant brook, small stream, which defined the borders of the Shires. In fact I encounter both words as place names on my door step in South Yorkshire. Beck has exactly the same meaning as Meer. But we have the common usage to follow at beck & call, & the verb to beckon.,
ie: poetically to follow the call to cross the borders into Faireland. Further etymological allusions such as glassy blue isles, with the Glastonbury myth & the magic of Faireland itself, where time & form are suspended, led me to compare with the allusion of Alice
Through the Looking Glass. In the Galic Mythology you have Land of Shi, Land of Eternal Youth, Land of Many Colours, Land of No Return as architype transmigration. Even in the use of weir, as there you can cross the water because the mill wheel is turning, namely in Shi, Turner of the Stellar Mill. It seems this is lost on our readers through no fault of my own & my writing I must insist but their awareness. Hence this together with my following
submission Samhuinn* in free verse & local , is my poetic offering for the seasonal Halloween.
Friday, October 29, 2004
i.
Land of Shi
She beckons to me
Across the meer
To pass on weir
With ne'er a fear.
So will I follow
Her beckon and call
Over waterfall
To the Land of Shi.
A hundred yards tall
Trees shed canopy,
Bowers invite me
Framed in mystery.
Horizon isles
In glassy blue float
Waters on the moat,
A boat's tall and small.
Such is wonderland
Through a looking glass,
Where no shadows pass,
On the silver grass.
Nor beast skulks in lair,
Only rainbows sprung,
Where time ever young
Whistles down the wind.
ii.
Samhuinn*
Old year's day
approaches, winter settles
into a stubborn grey sky
withering the horizon.
Traces of sun glint
diabolical patterns
through ghostly pallor,
on its northern sojourn.
Its shadow cast,
gravity gets heavier
as the sky falls
& death smells.
Out of sight, unconscious,
sounds of a beaten anvil
& someone fires a gun,
an enemy, then pantheon.
*Samhuinn is the Old year's
Day accordingto the Celtic
Calander on October 31st &
night of the witches,
transition between 28th & 2nd
which the Christian Tradition
adapts to Halloween.
Copyright Robin Ouzman Hislop 2004
All rights reserved.
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LATE HAPPY HALLOW EVE"
I find the rhythm and the rhyme pattern in Land of Shi TREMENDOUSLY appealing.
I also enjoy very much that the piece introduces readers like me to words with ages-old roots that have grafted themselves into the English language.
And with Samhuinn, Robin, in a few well-chosen words and phrases you've captured the full flavor and import of this observance.
For me, it's brand new information -- I had to look it up.
I'm glad I did. It made my appreciation of your poem that much greater, in understanding the context.
Your Halloween offering makes for a great combination.
Carmen :-)