Ancestral Migration

Born in cragged Cornwall

cold, where linden, windswept,

enwreathed home on heath-blooms:

heart-song isle of longing.

 

Traveled o’er sea tipped white

to lands where pine stands, so

bore she north her birthright:

Brithonic grace, myth-queen.

A dróttkvætt for the April poetry slam at Yeah Write.

10 thoughts on “Ancestral Migration

  1. You had me at Cornwall–but the visual-aural beauty of the first stanza is incredible. I do like “myth-queen,” and not just because of the hyphen. 😉

  2. Love the pictures your words painted in my mind. I can visualize cragged Cornwall. I can feel the ocean spray, the excitement at the site of the new world, and smell the pines. This was really extraordinary. ♥

    • Thank you so much Kathy, both for your enthusiastic reading but also for completely getting it. That is very rewarding after the difficult writing process this was.

    • Glad you appreciated that tag!! And also that line, which, when I had finished it, convinced me to keep going (rather than giving up again). Thanks for your advice, too 🙂

  3. Beautiful! Yours mostly uses softer consonants than some of the other entries, which fits with the gentler subject matter. “enwreathed home on heath-blooms” and “bore she north her birthright” are my favorites.

    • Hm that’s interesting, Ruby, I hadn’t noticed that. Thanks for reading so closely – and I’m very happy to hear you liked those two lines. When you spend so long working every word you get quite attached them all 🙂

    • Do you know, that line came to me fully formed! Every other line was such an uphill battle (well, you know what I mean) that I was sure I’d somehow not followed a rule with that one. So glad you liked it!

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