Am looking for comment and crit on the following as I don't have a group to
work with at the moment.
The 'Ipsy 'Awsy Tree
Midsummer's eve.
The village nestles under the downs
beneath the stick figure of the white horse.
On the hill above
there's a rattling of twiggy branches
as the tree lifts its roots from the chalky soil
and strides off across the down.
In the 'Baker's Arms',
a fat, rather grubby old man
sits in the corner of the public bar
relating local legend
to the team from the BBC.
Old Tich puts down his empty glass.
"Used to be giants hereabout,
they'm all gone now, et by the dragon.
Still see their footprints alongside the Manger,
the valley by the 'orse.
Only baint an 'orse really,
tis the ghost of the dragon.
Old George killed the dragon
on top of Dragon's Hill.
There's a patch on top
where the blood ran out.
Tis bare to this day
and nuthin ever grows there.
All the fairy folk are gone now
and all the bad wights 'cept one".
He looks at his glass and waits.
The interviewer fetches another pint.
"Which one's that then, Tich?"
"The one he's been scaring the kids with again"
comes a voice from the bar.
"You mark what I sez,
the 'Ipsy 'Awsy tree walks the Vale
each Midsummer's eve.
It'll have the blood of a child,
the wrong 'un what's out after midnight,
whose folk don't care for 'un proper.
Mark my words, someone'll regret tonight".
He downs his pint,
leaves the bar to the murmur of angry voices
and goes back to lock himself in his cottage.
The BBC team pack up their gear and leave
as the landlord cries "Time gentlemen please".
Just before dawn, on the hillside,
not quite in the same place as before,
the tree settles its roots into the thin earth,
its berries bright with the colour of blood.
Roger Collett
2nd September 2001
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