Round the Herne

On July 25th the local druids will be hosting a day of talks, discussions, storytelling, demonstrations etc. celebrating Celtic mythology and both ancient and modern druidry. I will be both talking (about Insular Cetic deities and ogam) and storytelling. The setting is a beautiful 15th century pub, the White Horse at Finningham, a few miles from Stowmarket. If anyone needs collecting from the train station, this can be arranged - provided you give advance notice! Details of ticket prices etc. can be found here - http://www.ipswichpagancouncil.com/dancingwiththedagda.htm

Driftwood Sea air heals, fills lungs ozone rich and fresh with hope So profound it pulls me far from this place in search. Solace sought on this lonely shore as waves sand stroke Ancient beats, such symphony as was heard in Greece – Far Poseidon melodies sang for wading youths. Brine swirls, soaking calves, ease brought as old bones flex strength, Time once ice-stiff melts away in warm ocean tides Age-old fears dissipate – reflected, weakened, solved. Deep dreamtides ebb and flow, sea currents raise lost needs. He moves, easeful on green-grey rips, swims to surface. Proteus dries in the breeze, warming on boulders, beached We eye each other, gaze sidelong as Apollo Holds two souls in his gold aegis. Chance before me, Too late I turn, but bare stone shelf is bleak display: The bold seal herder dives, he is gone, my mistake. Day slowly drags, sun fades along with my scant hopes. Heat fails to touch ash future, sadness drowns all gains, H...

Today was the sixth annual Eisteddfod in Suffolk, and the first one that I have not actually organised. Instead, this year Fiona Dowson organised it and I took part as a contestant. There were five storytellers and as many poets. The theme set for the stories was "goddesses", and the other tales told were an account of Macha's foot race, a legend told of Erzulie-Freda and one of her rather misguided lovers, the sage of Ceridwen and Gwion Bach (which one the contest), and the story of Perseus and his mother Danae. My own contribution was the story of Sekhmet, a near-identical version of which I have recorded from the comfort of my own sofa.