I'LL ROAM NO MORE OFF MOHER

The threat of a sea, my seeing

more of the world--more

than my poor mother’s heart could endure--

tugged until she had no other recourse but

to untie her apron’s string …

 

When the news came--

I’d gone down to Tír na Mara--

I’m told she lit one last candle,

mumbled a half-hearted prayer to her lady

of perpetual sorrows … before

turning her back to the sun …

 

the thought of the son she’d waited for …

her boy who wouldn’t be coming back

ever again … because

he’d fallen for that foulest of witches--

Manann’s cold-hearted harlot … Clíodhna.   

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

How well mothers think they know their sons.. adult teenagers that they are. Is believed by one great thinker that, boys will always be boys in a loving mother's mind and heart. However, can also be a wotsit rubbisher that was never from a married couple! Boys do love their mothers but also long to search for a woman who is, just that a WOMAN who will serve him well and iron his shirts too with reminders that she does so! Mothersrarely ask for thanks but ... hope is their favourite word. TThe rosary though blessed to be recalled can be a stern reminder of what must be. Not always to remember in this particularly modern day. Great thought, sir - perhaps a discussion in the making on a cold wet day..

[Betty Hermelee]

Dear Ken...there is much witchcraft I see in this poem...as well as foreign names, but it seem that this poor religious mother found out that her son was never to return because he was under the spell of a harlot, a witch of sex and lewd things...so it's a sad write...what you could see, "your mother could never endure"
Thanks for sharing Ken
Warmly, B