Giants Fall Folk Tale
One of my friends writes a Druid poetry blog, her musings take us back to a more traditional time, where humans were closer to nature and lives were simpler and more in harmony with the land. I love her poems and would like to share with you her latest on the ancient long man of Wilmington on Windover Hill in East Sussex.
Giant's Fall, One of the folk tales of The Giant of Wilmington by Sarah
Giant at Wilmington lies so still
He doth forever lie so still
Looks over fields out to the north
'Cross fertile lands whence grains spring forthe
I'll tell a tale from long ago
Tell a tale of which I know
There were two giants lived on these Downs
Each had a barrow large and round
They looked across the river with hate
They smouldered, vented, how they did hate
One dark night they'd had enough
Each collected boulders big and rough
They hurled across the river there
Crators still mark the ground so bare
Hugh great dents 'pon yonder Down
At which the Fae still dance around
They shouted, yelled pulled out their hair
Made much a din this raucous pair
Firle Giant got his hammer out
Wilmington waved his staffs about
The Firle Giant aimed a throw
Right at his brow it was to go
It flew with speed, hit his foe's head
And Wilmington he sorely bled
Wilmington fell up on that brow
Tripped over edge, still lies there now
His staffs in hand for all to see
And there forever he will ever be
Whatever happened once up here
We make our offerings throughout the year
We show our thanks, we sing with praise
And we ask for happy days
Sarah, Bard and Ovate of OBOD (The Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids)
