The Crone and the Maiden

For Idril; a Summer Solstice rhyme At Avebury, on Solstice eve, a crone and a maiden sat The crone wore a weary wisdom, and the maid wore a flowery hat And as the sun sank ‘neath the hill, and the sky flushed rosy red The maid, her eyes all full of flame, turned to the crone and said ‘I know nothing of love, speak to me, of marrying, and men How will I know if I lie with a man, that he’ll come to me again How will I know if I lie with him, that his heart be faithful and true They say that the crone knows everything, so tell me, tell me do’ The crone put down her weaving, sighed a little, thought, and spoke ‘How do you know that the bees will buzz, or the wren will sing in the oak How do you know that the night will flee, or the birds fly free on the morn As sure as you know that the sun will rise, and the stones be here at dawn’ ‘That isn’t an answer,’ said the maid, ‘I want more certainty How will I know that he speaks the truth when he lies down with me How will I know by the look in his eye, or the touch of his hand on my breast Whether he be the man for me, and king above all the rest’ ‘You won’t,’ said the crone, ‘you’ll never know, ‘tis up to fate and chance ‘Tis biology, mystery, fantasy, a curse, and a merry dance Just drink of the wild heat of him, while fire still burns in the sky For men will come and go, my dear, all suns will fade and die’ The maiden sighed a little, and the crone a little too ‘It seems like only yesterday that I was a maid like you With oak and roses in my hair, and eyes all full of flame’ ‘Best get some in,’ the maid said ‘Ay,’ the crone said, ‘that’s the game’ At Avebury, on Solstice eve, a crone and a maiden sat The maid wore a little wisdom, and the crone wore the maiden’s hat And time passed by in a wheel of stars, till dark gave way to the dawn And the sun rose pink upon the hill, and the king rode in on the morn © Gail Foster 17th June 2017