Feberwary" is a old Scottish form of "February". It's a strange transitional month, and I wanted to write something that captured the fierce paganism of the ancient Celts and Norse folk...
In the bleakest times, cold wind upon stone
Cauldron bubbling on the fire stirred by crone
Grey the clouds, grey the days, sunrise slow
Tell the tales, tell of long, so long ago
Icy hands reach out, barely can earth sustain
The Ice Queen still may reach out and reign
Streams running ceased, a frozen land so iced
Glitter the icicles, that sparkled and enticed
The giants fight the gods, all have gathered here
And stormy weather tears and rends the air
Warriors in their element, fierce exultant bliss
As wet rain beats down on faces like a kiss
The spring is coming, the frolic of the lamb
And grey clouds will pass, so sings the dahm
A month of struggles, of weather torn apart
As anger subsides before the joyful heart.
1917: Cliément d'Caen et ses patates (2) - Siette et fîn dé ch't' histouaithe. *The conclusion of this story.* *(Siette et fîn)* - Eh bein sé-m'n'âge! se fit Cliément, eh bein sé-m'n'âge! - Et le v...
13 hours ago