La mala hora

In front of me she did roam 
Slowly but I was not surprised
Her dress a bridal one
Almost taking her balance

Chestnut hair flowing in the night
Windless though it was
Something not quite right
Her face too veiled for evening

Sweet words carried on the wind
A bell clanged dull and dank
Terror now my belly did find
And of a sudden I realised

There were no feet striking ground
A floating woman was what I now saw
My eyes drawn to feet turned round
Toes point to me and blood went cold

My evening jaunt did wait that night
For she was sucking in the light
Drinking souls if she could catch
My door was barred lock and latch.

©Ailsa Cawley 2022
Written for Folktober hosted by Paul Dragonwolf



I stand here awaiting you 
Walk towards me slowly until
You can see me unhidden against
The trees that shelter my form.

I’m here in plain sight daily
But do you listen?
As the Bodach awaits you
Do you think I cannot see?

What do you expect as I encompass
Your being, first left, now right
Lifting your face to mine
Your body shaking in fear of a fate
But it cannot tear itself away from me

My eyes see into you through you
shiver at the Bodach’s understanding
Wish that you were not called here
This day, time, hour into the forest

Day has turned to night
Seconds into hours and you will
Yourself to leave and yet
Until the Bodach says aye ye go

You are here at the Bodach’s Will
Never after this can you jest
At the power he holds as you did once
You shall smile weakly knowing

The Bodach shall bring to him
All and any he wants
Those woods become his army
You are less than an ant under him
You no longer doubt his power.

©Ailsa Cawley 2022
Written for Folktober Challenge
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