A rhyming story poem about what happened on the day a stranger came to a village by the sea

Women In Water

In the dawn of the morning
a figure was seen
walking the shore all alone.
A strong man, a proud man
a tall man was he
wild eyed and his cloak was torn.

Behind him his footsteps
left a trail in the sand
and this trail it came from the sea
he had washed up ashore
upon this strange land,
was a stranger to you and to me.

Above him the sky
was swirling with clouds
edged red by the sun from below
with each step that he took
the earth seemed to move
his power and pride
made that so.

So he walked as we watched
like the birds on the wing
down the shore where a village did lie
still in dark in dark stone
and they knew not a thing
deep asleep when the stranger came by.

Lightning flashed in his eyes
and then lightning struck
lit up the dark morning lands
lightning played in his hair,
lightning played in his smile
and lightning flashed from his hands.

With a voice that was thunder
with a voice from the night
he called out, "You people awake!
For the time has come
to put old wrongs to right,
I have come for my payment to take.

"Bring your women, your virgins,
bring them now to your door
and hand them over to me
I will spare all the others
return here no more
and free from me you shall be.

"Refuse me, deny me
and I will and I swear
upon all that is holy and true
destroy all your houses,
take your lives and your loves,
kill you all, and that's what I will do."

In the village there was
much fear and much dread
and nobody knew what to say;
who was this stranger
and why had he come
to take all the women away?

They dithered and skulked
they hid in their beds
they hid under tables and chairs
put their hands on their eyes,
stuck their thumbs in their ears
to pretend that he just wasn't there.

The stranger he waited
a few moments more;
then he raised his arms up high
and the sea it rushed forward
and the wind came to shore
and his lightning flashed down from the sky.

He struck the first house
made from ancient dark stone
it shattered like leaves in a storm
no-one was spared,
not a soul did survive
and the stranger stood tall and alone.

And there was a silence
for a moment or two,
and then there were rustles and creaks,
as doors were opened,
and women appeared
with tears running down their cheeks.

They were saving their children,
saving their men,
saving the village whole,
giving up their own lives
to the stranger's hands
giving up on their lives and their souls.

Slowly, they made their way
to the shore where the stranger
stood tall and strong
on bare feet, in their night gowns,
long hair blown by the storm,
not knowing what they had done wrong.

The stranger turned,
he called to the tides
and from the high waves roar
white horses emerged
and they shifted to shapes
white horses stepped on the shore.

The stranger and women
did each mount on a horse
and they all did turn as one,
rode straight into the sea
rode straight into the waves,
stranger, women and horses were gone.

The men and the children,
they cried and they sighed,
walked each day by the ocean's shore,
called their daughters, their mothers,
their lovers by name,
but they came back no more.

Yet the fishermen told a story or two
when they sailed back home to the town
of women in water
in white floating gowns
with pale feet
and their long hair unbound.



SFX 2010