Poem – The Trickster of Barra

(Image credit: Karen Sweetland)

Young fisher’s daughter wail’d away at shore
With fear of father’s years and Fate’s keep
For brother cruel had left to die at war
And she with sisters five starved a-weep

T’was when she hearken’d from behind a stone
A misted voice that sang of fish and seas
She quite forgot the care and grief of home
And only rose at eventide’s breeze

His eyes shone gold like those of clever Fox
His braids as black and long as he was fair
He took a silver comb in iv’ry box
And asked the maid to brush his midnight hair

Young fisher’s child now dreams away her ails
She sleeps a gentle sleep beneath the waves

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