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Archive for April, 2007

Here’s some folklore fitting for the day. Not really a love story, but more of an enchantment. 

True Thomas sat on Huntley bank,
And he beheld a lady gay;
A lady that was brisk and bold,
Come riding o’er the ferny brae.

Her skirt was of the grass green silk,
Her mantle of the velvet fine;
At every lock of her horse’s mane,
Hung fifty silver bells and nine.

SO BEGINS the ballad of the quaint 13th-century figure known as Scotland’s Nostradamus and his enchantment by the Queen of the Fairies. Thomas of Ercildoune – more commonly known as Thomas the Rhymer – was a soothsayer of such repute that for a time his fame rivalled that of the Arthurian magician Merlin.

<em>Thomas the Rhymer and the Fairy Queen</em> by the artist James Thompson.Thomas the Rhymer and the Fairy Queen by the artist James Thompson.

The accuracy of what happened to Thomas and how he gained his supernatural powers has become confused over the centuries, but there are common threads running through every variation of the story. It is, in essence, a fairy story but one which seeks to explain how Thomas was able to predict some of the most important events in Scottish history, including the defeat by the English at the Battle of Flodden and the Union of the Crowns of Scotland and England.

Very few “fairy stories” are given such credence as that of Thomas and his dalliance with the Queen of Elfland. After all, he was no fairy. He was a real person and his predictions – which were written down – were treated so seriously that they were consulted before both the two Jacobite rebellions.

So who was Thomas and why was he singled out for mystical powers? Born around 1220, he lived in Learmont Tower, near Ercildoune, now Earlston in Berwickshire. Close by there stood a grove of hardwood trees on the banks of Huntly Burn and as a youngster Thomas had a favourite tree under which he used to lie.

The story goes that as he lay there one day he saw the beautiful Queen of the Fairies approaching on her graceful white horse. She was wearing green silk and velvet and on her horse’s mane there hung 59 silver bells. Thomas was entranced by her beauty and readily complied when the Queen asked him to kiss her underneath his favourite tree. He then agreed to accompany her, and the two rode off into the Eildon Hills where Thomas spent seven years as the Queen’s lover in her fairy home in Elfland.

The Eildon Hills in Roxburghshire, where Thomas and his fairy queen are said to have lived.The Eildon Hills in Roxburghshire, where Thomas and his fairy queen are said to have lived.

The years seemed only a few minutes to Thomas. But when the time came for the Queen to return him to mortal land, she made him promise never to speak of what he had seen. He agreed and she gave him an apple and said: “Take this for thy wages Thomas, it will give thee a tongue that can never lie.”

From then on he was known as “True Thomas”. The Queen also conferred on him the gift of prophecy.

He used his new powers to prophesy several significant historical events including the death of King Alexander lll; the succession of Robert the Bruce to the throne of Scotland; the defeat of the Scots at the Battle of Flodden; the defeat of Mary, Queen of Scots’ forces at the Battle of Pinkie in 1567; and the Union of the Crowns in 1603.

He is also said to have predicted the Scottish success at the Battle of Bannockburn and the Jacobite uprisings of 1715 and 1745.

The story of Thomas is told in the ballad Thomas the Rhymer, which was included by Sir Walter Scott in his work, Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. In recent years recordings of the ballad have been made by the folk-rock band Steeleye Span and Scottish folk musician Ewan MacColl.

Thomas himself was a noted poet and is supposed to be the author of one of the oldest-known surviving Scottish stories, Sir Tristrem, also edited by Sir Walter himself.

There is one final twist to the saga of Thomas the Rhymer. One day, many years after returning from Elfland, he walked out of his house to his favourite tree under which he had first met the Queen. He has never returned and has not been seen since.

According to legend he will return one day to help Scotland in her hour of greatest need. Some might say that time is not far off.

http://heritage.scotsman.com/myths.cfm?id=841922006

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Sleep eludes me and so the dreams that come with it, dreams that come and cover me like a soft blanket, a warm and quiet place. I need them now to carry me to that place, away from everything but you. Perhaps tonight with the mystical energy of Beltane and the full moon upon us, I will drift away on dreams and find you.


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It’s almost morning here. Soon the sun will be pushing the night away and I will head home to bed. It’s crazy working these hours, as I love both the night and the day. I’m wondering where you are today, and what your day will bring. Will you be in your garden, or are you far away from home again. I wonder what is in your garden, and if I wandered through it, what new things might I learn about you. Whatever the day brings for you, I hope it’s wonderful How could I wish anything less for you.

Perhaps I will dream of you today. My sleep has not given me many dreams over the past few months. Those I have of you are a gift, so vivid and real, almost like messages or pieces of a puzzle. What picture would that puzzle be, if it was finished. My heart would paint a picture with love, tranquility, comfort and unmeasurable joy, but the heart can only wait to see what will come.


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Here is a sad but true story, one I had never heard.   I’ll see if I can’t find a happy ending next time.

‘Heloise and Abelard’ is one of history’s most passionate and romantic true love stories. The nine hundred year old love affair of the 12th century philosopher and theologian and his student Heloise continues to inspire and move us. Their passionate relationship scandalized the community in which they lived. The details of their physical and spiritual intimacy is also a cautionary tale for our time.

There are still societies whose policies result in rigid attitudes of intellectual, theological and sexual repression. This great love story, and the courage and passion of its protagonists, has much to teach us about our own understanding of religious tolerance, sexual equality and intellectual freedom.

Here is an admonitory tale screaming to us from across the centuries to reason, and to question, question, question!

In twelfth century Paris, the intellectually gifted young Heloise, the niece of Notre Dame’s Canon Fulbert, strives for knowledge, truth and the answer to the question of human existence. It soon becomes apparent that only one teacher in Paris can provide the education that she seeks. Though twenty years her senior, Abelard quickly becomes intrigued by Heloise’s uncommon wit and intelligence, for Heloise is on par intellectually with Abelard.

They soon find themselves so entwined that neither can resist the spiritual and physical desires of their bodies, yet they both know that the laws of the time forbid such a relationship. But their physical love and the strength of their passion proved to be a power impossible to resist.

When Heloise becomes pregnant, they realize it is not safe for her to remain in Paris. They flee for Brittany, Abelard’s place of birth. In a scheme to protect the dignity of his fallen niece, and return Heloise to his home, Canon Fulbert arranges a secret marriage between Heloise and Abelard. But shortly after the two lovers are wed, they discover Fulbert’s true plot is to ruin Abelard and keep Heloise for himself. For her safety, Heloise escapes to the convent at Argenteuil, but it is too late for Abelard and he is brutally attacked in Paris.

As a result of his humiliating punishment, Abelard no longer considers himself capable of continuing as a teacher at Notre Dame, and he and Heloise understand what they must do. Canon Bedell pleads with Abelard to not force such a fate upon Heloise, but both Heloise and Abelard agree that they must take Holy Orders as Monk and Nun. In a heartbreaking moment, Heloise must give up her child, knowing that she will never see him again.

Through their famous correspondence of twenty years, their love continues to flourish, in spite of their separation. After many years pass, in a chance meeting, Heloise and Abelard are briefly reunited at a ceremony in Paris. Though they have been physically apart all these years, at last in the sight of the other, the former lovers realize that the love they share is the reason for human existence. As the glorious ceremony begins, they triumphantly promise to remain “Forever One”.

They never met again, yet through their famous letters, their love endures.

Six hundred years later, it was Josephine Bonaparte, so moved by their story, the she ordered that the remains of Abelard and Heloise be entombed together at Pére Lachaise cemetery in Paris. To this day, lovers from all over the world visit the tomb where the remains of Heloise and Abelard rest eternally together.

http://www.abelardandheloise.com/Story.html
Click here to see the Tomb of Abelard and Heloise, Pere Lachaise, Paris

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Words

Forgive me tonight, as I can’t think of anything beautiful to write.  Still, you rest in my heart, as you do every minute of every day.  Words, not poetic, fall from my heart, words not destined for pages of long ago poems, but those words are heartfelt.

Some would call this love I hold in my heart foolish, and would have me keep that love for another.  They do not see, and I cannot explain.  There is no other for me, nor will there be in this life.   What may not be right for another sustains me and breathes life into my soul. 

There are many things I have learned from this life, some about love.  You can be with someone every day of your life and still be all alone, and you can be separated by oceans and be together always.

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Why is it tonight, when I need you so badly, I find myself utterly exhausted, unable to write the words. Still you are here in my heart and I feel you close to me. My tears always seem to make that connection stronger, something I’ve never been able to explain. How do you explain this to anyone?

Tomorrow will be better, I suppose, after some sleep. I’ll walk to the lake and sit under my tree. If only you would be there, not just in waking dreams. Still, it’s enough, somehow, to get me through. Our connection is strong. I’ll never completely understand it, at least not now, but I am humbled by something so strong and wonderful.

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You were in my dreams again last night.  You had moved into my home, at least it was my home in the dream.  You were sleeping, and I remember I  watched you sleep, content with that, not wanting anyone to disturb you.  Deep down I wanted to curl up next to you, my head nestled on you shoulder, and listen to your heartbeat, but watching you sleep was such a simple quiet thing, so satisfying.  You were awake later in the dream and smiling, talking to my son,  and then, of course, I woke up.  This dream lasted the entire time I slept, over three hours. 

Dreams of you are so few, but they are the only dreams  I never forget. I remember every detail, including the one where I did hear your heartbeat, while you held me.  A heartbeat, carrying through the deepness of sleep a gentle sound yet so powerful.

I’ve written down the dreams I’ve had of you, in a dream diary. It was a diary started to journal all of my dreams, but as I say, these are the only dreams I remember, so real at times.  They are gifts to me, from where I do not know, but they leave me with peace and contentment. 

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Love letters, written long ago, put away for safekeeping, sit undiscovered, the parchment yellowed from time, the rose petals dried.  The words carry from this place, drifting through time, not bound by the paper, but only by the heart.  They continue to speak, but only to  those for whom the words were written.

Someone may find them and read the words written in love.  Will they wonder about the people in the letters, who they were and what they were like.  Maybe they will be given a small picture of someone who once was, who loved and was loved.

I’m planning to copy my words to journals.   I want  something I can hold in my hand, so that as time passes, I can remember all the words I wrote, or something, just maybe, I can give to you should fortune smile my way.  If not, I will pack them away, with the rose petals as a record of my love.  The words will always be there, drifting through time, words only for you.

fadedtop.jpg

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Remembering

Sometimes I guess you have to try and open those doors, those ones that linger in your mind as distant memories of something.  Another poster suggested I try and sketch out the house I see in these brief glimpses I am given.

While my skills in the visual arts are less than stellar, I do have a friend who draws quite well. She also has is like minded, so I would not have to endure that look, the one you get from those who do not believe in such things.  So I think I will get together with her, show her the picture of the house that I found, and we will go from there.  Perhaps we will come up with something that will further stir that distant memory.

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Tonight Under the Night Sky

Tonight, when I sit out under the stars, I will be thinking of you.  The moon will hear the words I say, the blessings I send, and the wishes I hold in my heart, not only for me, but for you.  I will send these things to you in the soft darkness of  night, along with all the love I hold in my heart.  May the gentle breeze carry my words to you, and may sweet dreams always fill your sleep.

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