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Showing posts from March, 2024

Changeling Child

    The wind blows low and mournful through the Strath of Dalnacreich Where once there lived a woman who would a mother be For twelve long years a good man’s wife but ne’er the cradle filled A mother of a changeling child from ‘neath the fairy hill She traveled to the standing stones and crossed into the green Where all the host of elven folk were dancing there unseen Through the night she bargained with the Queen and fairies all who sent her home at dawning with a babe beneath her shawl How their home was joyful with a son to call their own But soon they saw the years that passed would never make him grow The fairies would not answer her, the stones were dark and slept A babe was all she’d asked for, and their promises they’d kept The wind blows low and mournful through the Strath of Dalnacreich Where once there lived a woman who would a mother be For fifty years she rocked that babe — it’s said she rocks him still A mother of a changeling child from ‘neath the fairy hi