more tales from the Tulgey Wood
Sometimes in the late evening she would rise from the water in secret and look through the bedroom window to see the children tucked away safely in their beds. If they were stirring in their sleep she softly sang a song to them…”tra li, tra la, soft shadows beckon, by the moon whose tears are lanterns, in the deepest secret hollow, voices calling, silence falling, head under wings, arise and follow...”
When a memory lingered in that haunted threshold before waking they told their father but he would frown and tell them that it was just a dream. He knew she had drowned herself in the deep lagoon long ago. Yet sometimes at night he felt a gentle touch on his forehead. It whispered through the curtains of his window like the breath of a feathered wing. He would dream of that time when she lay in his arms in the summer grass as the tumultuous shadows of swans in flight swept over their radiant bodies.
Also posted on the Runes
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My summer adventures – the magic of Scotland and Ireland on my other blog
See my Blog There was a Time for more
