Poetry of the Fabled Gable of Roman Britain: The Tale of Father Thorn: Chapter Two: Ancient Branch and Axe of Might (part of The Hollow Vale)

[embed]Chapter Two

The Tale of Father Thorn, C. 43 Anno Domini, During the Reign of Emperor Claudius

Magick lost to us we find, the fleeting Wyrd, that boundless bind. Me, as Caelwyn in future time, doth weep with tree and his great vines. A thorn he was to Roman rule, a thorn to her to save when called. So I do tell this story now, when I do sit and brush my brow. In brown dress I sit so meek, patrician’s daughter, this story bleak.

I weep when I do ponder so, of those lost Gods and men who glow. For glory in those times of old, at the behest of honour, found it bold. With axe in hand he cut through grove, three hundred years ago he roamed.

Father Thorn now lost to time, an ancient man, in my long rhyme. I sit and think of times he ran, from Cynsedgmar and east. But now his journey troubled so, he lost his search and lost his glow.

The land therein is golden green, the fields and pastures seen between. I know this land of Tharion, the boundless glowing fields and trees of brown. For woodland old and forest groves, are ancient without human abode. For man hath tamed the forest not, he chops a tree, and nature rots.

Artwork by www.alexanderpaulburton.com

Father Thorn in his true quest, did cut through branches, at her bequest. To save Sulis from legions bold, that Roman blunder, Roman old. For they do seek to change her name, to quiet native, and to blame. Story told will pay heed, to his long quest and his long deed.

Forest younger he did see, a growing forest, in disagree. For green grass spreads to woodland edge, that gnawing feeling, gnawing dread. The path ahead was lost to him, ere he found a new respite, a boldness in him grew that night. For sit and ponder in noontime calm, to sit and think, to use his arm. Woods and trees were spirits of old, their feckless minds and branches bold.

Ere the coming of the axe, he wielded gently to the trunk. That brown long stem, the ancient wood, the flesh of might, that time withstood. Old as friends who sit and drink, the timeless tree, on the brink. For chop he must to make a path, Father Thorn in might he grew, to use his hand and chop anew.

The trees did fall just one by one, the meaning hither was not fun. For use of wood was none and few, time tested glory, in time they grew. But path he made through ancient wood, that glade behind, an easy bind. Venture forth through path of leaves, of ancient beasts, of ancient greed. In his mind he knew his task: to reach the Romans and to them ask. Questions bold and demand he’ll make, to Imperial God he won’t forsake. For Britain in that time of yon, was land of ancient rite and song.

The woods he swam in did not fight back, his axe he chopped and axe did crack. That reaching end of forest vines, would lead to Avaloniae in time. A path was cast for future him, for Father Thorn when time was slim.

Lamy and Japanese Ink, oil paint and pencil on Canvas by Alexander Paul Burton

Author’s Note

This version of the Fabled Gable forms part of the larger Tharion Cycle and The Hollow Vale Universe.

The prose and poetry in this book is narrated from Caelwyn’s point of view, meaning her language and poetic descriptions are archaic and translated directly from Tharionese, a fictional language spoken in Roman Britain around the year 300 A.D.

These Abstract Tharionese Poems form the Poems and Tales of the Fabled Gable, part of The Hollow Vale and Tharion Cycle Universe, recently covered by the BBC.

Find out more about my Historical-Fantasy, The Hollow Vale, set during the time of the decline of the Roman Empire in Britain in the 400s. The story, a lyrical-prose forward piece, explores the journey to remember Identity, and Belonging in a changing world.

The Hollow Vale forms part of a Romano-British inspired Universe, including a fictional language, maps and more!

Click below to find out about my 2,200+ word constructed language called Tharionese, Hand-drawn illustrations and pictures, and more!

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