Thursday, June 01, 2006

Old Irish Traditions

For sickness: Turn the head of the bed to the north.

To cure the bite of a mad dog : The cure for this is the touch of the hand of a seventh son. The effect is immediate.

A red haired woman : If you meet one while on the road to a fair, or to go fishing; turn back, for you will have no luck.

Money : If you should somehow find yourself in need of it, keep with you the back tooth of a horse.

Dreams : Always make an effort to tell your dreams first to a woman named Mary, and only after you've eaten breakfast.

Shamrock : Of all the charms, a four leafed clover is the luckiest. Should you get one, never let it leave you or it will take your luck with you for ever. Never show it to a soul.

Luck at cards : Stick a crooked pin in the lapel of your coat to bring you luck.

Knitting : The best knitting is done at night for that's when the sheep will be sleeping.


Wednesday, May 31, 2006

A Gale am I : I soar above the star,
Again my wings with earthly mire are stained :
Alike I captain hosts of peace and war,
I cast tomorrow what today I gained.

I am the ardent lover and the cold,
And none in the world can hate as I,
And like the brown hare, timid, yet o’re bold,
When high adventure sounds her thrilling cry.

I am the restlessness that never sleeps,
And the dream haunted sleeper of dead years :
I am the child’s fresh joy that sudden leaps,
Yet all the Earth is wet with my tears.

The World I ever wake to fresh amaze.
My messages in sacrifice I trace ;
Mine are the splendid, unexpected ways ;
I am a phantom of the gods lost race.

I am the patient builder – yet again
For the sake of one marred stone the whole I raze ;
Truth seeker, for perfection ever fain –
I am discord in Earth’s mundane ways.

The champion I of every broken cause,
Not all Earth’s garnered fame my soul can sate
And when the throng shouts loud in my applause,
I tryst with some old dream at God’s gate.
- Mave Cavanagh MacDowell