The Poddington Project: Christine DeWinter Grief Upon the Slossipath The sun it beat upon the brow Of every farmer at his plow Walking the fields row by row Along the steadfast Slossipath Then Aldora and her Bevan Lovers two, 'cross fields they ran To the churchyard, with their banns To post beside the Slossipath. Beneath the sun, she stopped to rest And catch her breath at his bequest 'My Bevan, of all, you are best' She said beside the Slossipath. 'Then let us to the stones of Gade Go' said he, 'for in their shade Sprites will bless a tryst if made Looking down on Slossipath.' Blushing maiden, she believed Soon 'neath the stones, her bosom heaved, With the spell her lover weaved About the mystic Slossipath. When she awoke, the sun had fled And in the sand, a note she read By light of moon, 'Goodbye' it said 'I flow away like Slossipath. So Aldora, through fields of grain Golden, like a lion's mane Drifted, weeping for her pain Begun so near the Slossipath. Soon all her shame, the people knew As deep within, the offspring grew What could have been a love so true Betrayed beside the Slossipath. In spring, a baby boy was born To Aldora, the maid forlorn Born without breath, and none did mourn The piteous spawn near Slossipath. Up to the stones, she took her son With countenance like his father's one And buried him beneath the dun Along the banks of Slossipath. Then as she sat beside the stream Wishing for what might have been Had not her Bevan become mean And run away like Slossipath Her teardrops fell and touched the earth Atop the mound, her child's berth A whispered voice spoke "What is worth Some vengeance along the Slossipath? 'Good Sir' said she, without a start 'I have no vengeance in my heart I only wish to be apart From all the pain of Slossipath.' 'What of the cur who caused your grief? Aldora, do you want relief And justice for your virtue's thief The yellow rogue of Slossipath' 'His child is dead, and here he lay There is no greater price to pay What started here, shall now here stay Along the steadfast Slossipath. Her virtue tested, shewed forth gold The stranger said 'I will be bold A gift I give, a rhyme when told Removes the grief of Slossipath.' 'But first, if you would be so kind What name was giv'n the child sublime Who rests now under spurge and thyme Beside the restful Slossipath.' 'I call him Flynn, he is the son Of Bevan, my redheaded one Though christened not, he died too young A lost child by the Slossipath. 'My thanks' said he, 'now listen quick To leave this pain, you must go lick The stones of Gade, and hold a stick Dipped in the waves of Slossipath. Then break the stick, and speak these words To the sky and to the birds 'I seek the door that was offered And leave the pain of Slossipath'" She dried her eyes without a sound And placed a kiss upon the ground For Flynn, who slept beneath the mound Beside the quiet Slossipath. Then to the task, she put her mind, The oaken stick and stones to find Then with a wave, broke ties that bind Her heart to lands near Slossipath. Her homage to the stones she paid Then as she spoke, the Door of Gade Opened in that stony glade That looked down onto Slossipath. Within the doorway Bevan stood His tear-stained face behind his hood 'I was brought here before I could Explain beside the Slossipath. (Editor's note: Two versions of this poem exist--the original draft, and that which was published in Lady's Purview, most likely at the insistence of its editor, Frances LeVecque. The published ending is reproduced below, while the original manuscript ending follows.) She instantly to his arms ran Forgiving in a kiss, the man Who left to rule the Faerie Land Beyond the river Slossipath 'My love' she cried, 'we had a son Who died before his life begun. For him, my tears will always run A volume like the Slossipath' He held her close, then command gave To winged ones, who to the grave Of little Flynn flew like the ravens That gather by the Slossipath. And with their bare hands,faeries toiled To free the coffin from the soil And take the child, in swaddlings coiled Out of the land of Slossipath. Bevan the King of Faerie Land Took his dead child in his hands 'You come from here, you could not stand To live beside the Slossipath' He with tender hands unwound The swaddling rags, then took his crown On the child's brow, he placed it 'round Dead prince, beyond the Slossipath. They turned their backs upon the door 'Pray, rule with me, forevermore E'en though I cut you to the core In leaving you by Slossipath.' And as the door closed on the sight Of riverbank and landscape blight A tiny sound came from the mite The once dead son of Slossipath. Then Aldora, and Bevan knew Queen and King, and parents too Their son revived, the words were true He could not live near Slossipath. Thus Flynn became the eldest one Of six daughters and six sons Born out of love, forgiveness won Beyond the shores of Slossipath. So we remember bloods don't mix Between the worlds, without some tricks And all-forgiving love, and sticks Dipped in the Slossipath. But not for fickle whim do we Open doors we cannot see Unless we first bear misery Beside the flowing Slossipath. (Editor's note: Here follows the original manuscript ending. Our thanks to the DeWinter family for their cooperation in its recovery.) Aldora wept to see him now A faerie crown upon his brow She froze as she remembered how He took her by the Slossipath. He begged 'I loved you 'neath the grain Come be my queen and help me reign In this realm, you will ne'er be stained By memories of the Slossipath' She calmly spake, 'I'll think no more Of your offer, for by lore Good Christians cannot pass the door To your realm from the Slossipath And then she swiftly took a blade Between her breasts, a deep stab made And joined her dead son, in that glade Of stones beside the Slossipath. Good children, then, we should beware Not look for lovers from afar For cruel fate our lives may mar Like Aldora of Slossipath. (Robyn Peters)