A Tribute To King Ailill

Ailill, Avalon’s cattle king, did I know it would be your name of which I would sing? When with your alias I made my claim for fame. Immortalized by Druid poets of the Ulster cycle, your spirit lives on like King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur in the folklore and culture of the Celtic people. Owner of the white horned magical bull Fen, a cause of war, Fen was once a member of the race of men, losing his way, through betrayal. A king to your last days, then treated like prey, haunted, chased over hill and dale, and killed by Cern Conall, due to the treachery of taking another lover, invoking the ire of Queen Medb, her jealousy, ruler of heart and head. How have you transfigured my soul with the poetry that you wrote, when my pen was at your behest instilling your wishes upon my chest? Upon the stage of life, how many acts can we acquire? comedy, tragedy, Ironic satire. Are the roles we play really our own? or are we as the aborigines say, our ancestors, skin and bones?