To celebrate National Poetry Day, we are publishing poems all day across the different blogs.
Chrisswell is located between Greenock and Inverkip, on "the IBM road", following a curse from the Prophet Peden, it has played host to a number of spectres, including these two traditionally doomed lovers...
(being several verses detailing the untimely demise of a young couple and the subsequent haunting of their homestead)
Beyond the path, before the trees
Cresswell’s blessed spring
A silence all round broken stones
And the birds don’t stop to sing.
A foolish lord of Cresswell Grange
An angry prophet cross’d
He cursed the land, and cursed the well
And cursed the souls since lost.
A youth sits pale and trembling,
Weeping echoes round the stone,
He stole her and her heart away
But now is empty and alone.
Her father had rejected him,
Too young, too weak to wed,
So wind behind them skies to guide them
The two young lovers fled.
They cross’d the river and she must
Have frowned upon their love,
She clawed their boat beneath the waves
Howled skies down from above.
They sank into the wretched dark,
Death’s damp dank hand took hold,
But he would not let his lady die
And he dragg’d her through the cold.
Ashore. At last ashore and now
His lady cough’d and woke
And they struggl’d through the sand and dusk
And neither spectre spoke.
He hurried her into the house
Beside Christ’s hallowed well
She stepped across the threshold
Cried out once and then she fell.
His lover lay down dead
And he would ever be alone
Doomed to solitude entombed
Behind decaying stone.
The cries of all the cursed
Will echo down the years
All lost and yet still wandering
By the holy well of tears.
Two lovers wander silently
Amid the rubble strewn
And celebrate perpetual love
That time may never ruin.