Long Celtic Poems
Long Celtic Poems. Below are the most popular long Celtic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Celtic poems by poem length and keyword.
Inside a library of things uncountable,
clippings, extracts, jottings, and snippets
gather words out of nothing.
Mind dust wafts.
A woman approaches with an armful
of my early, roughly cobbled poems.
behind her, unwritten books
begin to fall off bookless shelve.
“Don’t worry” she says,
she is Scottish and actually says:
“dinna fash yersel.”
An old Celtic grandma peeps out of her eyes.
The enormity of everything
overcomes the moment.
She places the fragmented scribblings
in an untidy pile upon a small reading table.
The thought of a ‘reading table’
amuses me;
she smiles while the rest of her vanishes.
After reading all the table had to offer,
I leave the building empty-handed.
Outside, a mackerel sky
begins to rewrite some passing clouds,
Like myself,
it is constantly editing and revising
its reality
the way a bowl fish does
when it swims full circle.
Duncan MacAlpin thoughts were disturbed
Beauty he had seen in Crovie
Had stolen his heart with one look.
Her face a map of Scotland.
Where would I begin to look for her? He wondered.
Mercury smirked, for He had already arranged everything.
In rivers, marshes, swamps, bogs, the wetlands…..
Duncan blinked; had he heard his favorite Celtic deity?
A shiny black kelpie seventeen hands high appeared.
Standing between Duncan and the ocean.
Duncan instinctively knew he had to get on his back.
He had not ridden a horse since the Gallic War.
Why are you hesitating? The transmigrated kelpie asked.
Not in words, but in telepathy.
He knew kelpies are able to manipulate your thoughts,
so he hesitated a little longer, wondering who was in charge here.
Did you want to see the lass again or not?
The kelpie fairly flew once he was on his back.
Took him to Kirkcudright where he tossed him into a flower bed.
A girl came running out to see if he was all right.
It was Adaira McFallen, the girl he had seen in Crovie.
He could not believe it. His faith in kelpies more vivid than ever.
She too worshipped the sun, moon, and stars,
and believed in the transmigration of souls. A match made by Mercury.
As the Nordic gods all gathered around
for there is a treasure that I have found
The Celtic gods all came as well
To listen to what I had to tell
For the Fenris Wolf has been unleashed
no one shall save Odin from this beast
Both the gods of Aesir and Vanir alike
when comes Ragnarok will have to strike
Brother against brother shall fight this day
And the Midgard serpent no one can slay
Thor takes three steps, after being bitten by the snake
no man or god will ever see him awake
As the Celtic gods, all looked on in awe
None of them could foresee the fall of Thor
So the Celtic tribe of Danaan formulated a plan
to help the Norse gods they’d be led by Bran
The mother of the gods, Danu was there too
And the Morrigu joined in with their Ravens flew
Nuada and Lugh led their warriors to the field
With the sword of light, a magical spear, and shield
But the Norns had weaved in runes this event
and no matter how they tried they could not prevent
The outcome may be bleak but there is some relief
A man and woman survive in the Old Norse belief
(Valentine's Collection)
(Historic Crown Of Sonnets)
13.
Our love and passion it does come to start,
within my mind you are the greatest dream.
You have an eternal place in my heart,
we shall ever love within a moonbeam.
Your smile does light up the depth of my soul,
in the night’s velvet touch I feel your love.
In the joy of my love, I find my goal,
come to me and we spend the night above.
Now you can sing into my gentle arms,
your heart brings me joy I have felt before.
As I do know well the joy of your charms,
many times we have entered love’s own door.
Love, ever the door that we both walk through,
in our love, we do sing as we must do.
14.
In our love, we do sing as we must do,
come my beloved, love by moonlight glow.
Through your Celtic grace, love’s door we walk through,
our night of desire, it shall pass so slow.
I shall ever behold your angel grace,
each moment divine I shall remember.
Our love it does echo through Heaven’s space,
love, it shall always be warm and tender.
I caress your temple with gentle hand,
your lips do meet mine in a gentle kiss.
In the warmest embrace, we both shall stand
and with you, I know, I shall find my bliss.
In dream, our love it does always shine through,
in our dream you are ever love so true.
15.
You are love in my dream’s own love story,
come into my arms where you do belong.
Oh, my Celtic queen, enter your glory,
as our hearts, they do sing our own love song.
In my dreams you are ever love so true,
you are Helen each and every night.
My Celtic queen, I lie in stars with you,
you are Aphrodite, before my sight.
The only pain I feel, when comes the day,
I am truly lost when we are apart.
Then does come the night, we do not delay,
our love and passion it does come to start.
In our love, we do sing as we must do,
in our dream, you are ever love so true.
16/012019.
The Celtic Cross at Île Grosse
by Michael R. Burch
“I actually visited the island and walked across those mass graves [of 30,000 Irish men, women and children], and I played a little tune on me whistle. I found it very peaceful, and there was relief there.” – Paddy Maloney of The Chieftains
There was relief there,
and release,
on Île Grosse
in the spreading gorse
and the cry of the wild geese . . .
There was relief there,
without remorse,
when the tin whistle lifted its voice
in a tune of artless grief,
piping achingly high and longingly of an island veiled in myth.
And the Celtic cross that stands here tells us, not of their grief,
but of their faith and belief—
like the last soft breath of evening lifting a fallen leaf.
When ravenous famine set all her demons loose,
driving men to the seas like lemmings,
they sought here the clemency of a better life, or death,
and their belief in God was their only wealth.
They were proud folk, with only their lives to owe,
who sought the liberation of this strange new land.
Now they lie here, ragged row on ragged row,
with only the shadows of their loved ones close at hand.
And each cross, their ancient burden and their glory,
reflects the death of sunlight on their story.
And their tale is sad—but, O, their faith was grand!
Ile Grosse means "Big Island" in French. The island, which lies in the Gulf of Saint Lawrence in Quebec, Canada, acted as a quarantine station for Irish people fleeing the Great Hunger between 1845 and 1849. In 1847 alone, 100, 000 Irish people traveled to Grosse Île to escape starvation, unaware of the hardships they would encounter upon arrival. Keywords/Tags: Ireland, Irish, Immigrant, Immigrants, Immigration, Refuge, Refugee, Refugees, Celtic, Cross, Grave, Faith, Religion, Christianity, Catholic, Hunger, The Hunger, Starvation, Great Famine, Potato Famine, Irish Famine Ships, Quarantine Station, Family, Families
Enchanted music
E nya your music fills my soul with hope
N ear or far it follows me, leading home
C lannad too I’ve loved from my youth
H eaven gained your dear sister recently
A ll my love zooms to you in your castle
N ever alone she lives in your heart forever
T he music of celts never dies
E nchanted sounds free the soul to fly
D rums , fiddles, harps sounds magically to the ear, voices serenading me
M usic truly sets my spirit free, inspires me
U nder angel wings we fly the celtic way
S ounds Majestic live forevermore
I thank you Moya Brennan and Enya from my celtic heart
C aptivates this land, sounds of music devine
Written in loving memory of Moya Brennan
RIP Queen of Celts forever, thank you for the music.
Enya keep singing
By Scottydotti April 2026
I lament the misery of my femaleness and howl at the moon
My garden alive with bursting thoughts of mightiness and plenty
I am my mother’s savage daughter a Wiccan who will not swoon
I run with wild Appanoose horses and will show my female power soon
Savage yes!
Mother’s daughter
Follow me home
Drink from the water
I am a pirate queen, a warrior woman, a Stonehenge fate dancer
My spells and charms full of goodness and love and hope for others
I gnash my teeth, eating burdensome thoughts of my mother’s,
Enjoying the hot, leaping, happy flames of acceptance, a fire dancer.
Savage yes!
Mother’s daughter
Follow me home
Drink from the water
I spit starlight from my eyes, with emotional feelings that overcome me.
My mother’s savage daughter, taking place throughout my spinning cells.
I am the one you avoid if you fear mighty femaleness and full out glee.
I am the Celtic of the winter of the summer of the solstice hot with she.
Mother’s daughter
Follow me home
Drink from the water
All women are moon-howlers, gardeners, spell gatherers and fire dancers.
All women are mothers’ savage daughters, laughing too loud and too often.
Pirate women, warrior women, chanters, singers, drummers, private prancers.
All women are me; I am all women, each of us savage daughters ‘til our coffin.
Mother’s daughter
Follow me home
Drink from the water
THE FESTIVAL OF SAMHAIN
It began at the end of Summer,
Marked the end of Harvest Season.
It's not the name of a Celtic god,
As some thought for some reason.
Samhain is a Celtic word and is pronounced (Sow-en),
And in Celtic it means "Summer's End",
It's the way they marked their calendar year.
The way their New Year begins.
When the Potato Famine hit Ireland,
Many folks left it seems,
Bringing with them their traditions,
Of Samhain and Halloween.
Folks dressed themselves to trick the ghosts,
To look like one of them.
If the ghosts get you they'll take your soul,
And then your troubles begin.
Some spirits disguise as humans,
As beggars who knock on doors.
If turned away empty handed,
You'll be haunted and cursed and more.
During this time they stayed close to home,
So as not to offend those who came.
Leaving food by the door they huddled inside,
T'was no celebration, Samhain.
Pope Gregory I gave it Christian context,
Converting standing non-Christian traditions,
To early midievil Christian beliefs,
In Saints to make simpler transition.
After mixing Celtic spirits with the Saints,
He designated All Saints Day, (Nov.1st.)
But the old beliefs did not die out,
In the minds of the elders it stayed.
Oct. 31st was All Hallows Day Evening,
The night before All Saints were revered.
This later was known as Halloween,
At last something no one would fear.
In the Irish mountain "Breasts of Anu" I reside.
I am mother goddess, the spirit essence of nature.
Anu or Danu my worshipers call me with pride.
Dana or Ana my believers apply their nomenclature.
I am the female principle, primal vessel for all things.
I birthed the people of Dana, the Celtic race of gods.
As enchantress, my incantations are said by kings.
As avatar of river and land, I appear on many facades.
Revered over Europe, I grant my name to River Danube.
I even appear in Sanskrit as the spirit of the aquatic.
You will celebrate the fruity flavors of the jujube,
as I am prosperity and food provider dramatic.
I am Danu, goddess of Earth and river fecund.
I am Anu, mother of wealth to many I have beckoned.
"Caim"
Caim
in time
labyrinthine
tale swallowed
serpentine
Caim
in time
heart kept
secure in the
central fortress mine
Serpentine
swallowed
labyrinthine tales
cooed her love Basilisk
night terrors and turtledoves
Turtledoves
followed trails
of diamonds dripping
through hazy windows emerald
reflecting you
precious pearls
slipping wisdom o’er
rusty halos for a golden crown
we all fall down
after rain comes sunshine
Caim
You
in time
to find my love
labyrinthine
little fugue
in G minor
Caim
You
in time
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
gvlm
“Like a Woman Should” / Hayley Mary
https://youtu.be/_hrIFu8RNdA
"The circle is open,
but never broken.
The love of Light
is forever in my heart.
I thank you Light
for lending
your energy tonight.
I call the Guardian
of the element of Light
to watch over this sacred circle.
Merry meet,
and merry part,
and merry meet again."
Caim
https://tadhgtalks.me/2016/06/30/celtic-wisdom-the-caim/
Magic
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_circle
Ring a Ring o' Roses
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ring_a_Ring_o%27_Roses
fugue, n.
1.
Music -
a contrapuntal composition in which a short melody or phrase (the subject) is introduced by one part and successively taken up by others and developed by interweaving the parts.
2.
Psychiatry -
a loss of awareness of one's identity, often coupled with flight from one's usual environment, associated with certain forms of hysteria and epilepsy.
Fugue in G Minor
Why is it called Little Fugue in G minor?
Bach's Fugue in G Minor for organ (BWV 578) is known as the "Little" G minor not because it is a work of small importance or even because it is an unusually short work in its own right, but simply so that it and the much longer and later "Great" G minor Fantasia and Fugue (BWV 542) might not be mistaken for one another ...
"Maid"/Netflix
https://www.netflix.com/au/title/81166770