Goblin of the Hearth
Upon the days that follow Samhain
The spirits of the hills return again
To homes through doorways, through time and space
In the otherworld they wait…
…they spy on mortals, spy on beasts
And join upon the days of feast
Where they dance and they sing
and they play with great spirit,
amongst hamlet, town and village.
One who stands apart from their fold
Is one who is named in bard’s tale told,
He of fellow, he of hob
He who answers by puck or rob
For this, our Goblin, of the cold stone floor
Can be found wandering, upon the moor
In circles of stone, where the ancients once stood
In amongst the luscious evergreen wood
He sits, he waits, for his friends to return
Lit up by the stunning nocturne…
The Goblin sits crossed legs within a stone circle inside a grove.
He is alone with only the starlight behind him.
It’s cold and my bum is wet.
Wet, from the grass and the excitement.
I am anticipation.
I am the moment of linger that sits on tip of tongue.
I am soon to be undone.
I am expectant.
I am the wait between abrupt laughter at a joke told.
I am something to behold.
…I stir, inside.
They burn in me, they squirm in me
I glow, like the hum of the silver moon.
This news cannot come too soon.
So relief may come over me,
So I may be free, and see,
and cheer and jeer at what is spoke.
I crave the golden yolk.
Cast away all else, for nothing tempts me
Cast away the ideals of twiddling thumbs
Cast away any possibilities to draw me in…
…I await the news wherein
I will learn and I will chortle
Laugh, snort, offer a rebuttal and
As I stand up, shake their hand
For they have made me a happy man…
But, this moment I treasure,
Still… far away,
So until then…
I am anticipation
I am expectant.
Two other people come laughing onto the scene.
One is dressed as a hag with blonde rope for hair.
The other a blue skinned, big toothed troll.
Here he sits, here he waits
Goblin of the Hearth
He waits in his prison of stone
Whilst we roam the Earth!
They move behind the stones and enter the circle.
They dance around the goblin as if they are mocking him and teasing him.
He remains seated on the floor but begins to smirk, a trickster’s smile.
Tell me, brother, sister fiend
Tell me of the night you dreamed
Tell me of the trouble you have spun
Tell me of the things you have done.
I took a walk in the immortal winter’s field,
Stabbing footprints in the snow.
There, a young fisherman tracked them…
Believing to be cryptid.
…and then, once at the end,
I leapt from ice upon the ground
and roared a terrifying sound!
He roars and the others laugh.
Oh he did scream, such a fright!
And that was the beginning of my night.
I danced upon the doors of several little towns
And when they twitched curtain and frowned…
I banged on the window,
And quickly disappeared,
Leaving just enough time
to see, their face full of fear…
They all laugh again.
And lastly, underneath a bed
I growled and hissed
and shouted loud.
When the children dipped their head
I hid and bowed.
But before they settled
Before they rest…
I’d swing my hand
Upon their chest,
They’d scream and cry for mother to come
And as she came… I would be gone!
They all laugh once more.
Oh, Blue, how you make me laugh.
Your antics are of terror and scare.
Tell me Hag, are you the same?
Do you stir fear and despair?
I stood on cliff top,
And screamed, and bellowed
Alerting the town of impending death
And as the eldest, clutched chest and fell
I captured his very last breath.
Neither the Troll nor the Goblin laugh.
Then I scattered around my spirit
To haunt those on the eve of Samhain
I rattled their doors,
And breathed ice upon shores…
I, the storm.
Again neither one laughs.
Finally I spilt my essence into the lives of men
Where I drift upon grave side
Imitating the lost and departed…
White Lady stood in the dark
Mouthing names of spouse,
Pointing to house and home…
…and then, fading into the cold crisp air.
She clenches her fist and stares out.
The two male spirits gawp in horror at her actions.
Goblin is the first to break the silence.
He stands up and moves away from the Hag.
Well, I see some make for fun whilst others cripple deep.
The hag glares at the Goblin and Troll.
Leave here Robin, leave this place.
Take flight little Robin.
Then you can preach all your days,
But if you cannot, and stay stuck in place
Then you can listen to me,
And the things that I chase.
She pulls a strop and flings her cloak.
Moving away from him she turns her back on both Goblin and Troll.
Troll rests his hand on Goblin's shoulder as Goblin bows his head.
Why don’t you try again, Robin?
The Goblin shrugs off the friendly hand.
If it were that simple, if only it were so
But the seeds of my banishment have been sewn.
I, the caged bird
I, the locked up prince…
I, who have been exiled and never heard of since.
Sincerely, I hope for the soul to come forth
And release me from this cage forged
from my home, from my birth…
from the bones of mother earth.
Anyway. Harp. Squawk. Tell me more.
Tell me ‘bout these frightenings and haunts!
You bring such relief.
The Hag and the Blue Troll look at each other with an unspoken solemn stare.
We must leave, we have much to do.
We will be back, to visit you.
They slowly and awkwardly leave Goblin on his own again,
he shrugs but seems twisted by his emotions of loneliness.
I who once tipped flower,
Now sit with taste so sour,
Bitter mouth, broken heart
Tears that pull my face apart.
I shudder at thoughts
Of remaining here.
And so dear puck, remains…
… … stuck.
He waits for stories to cheer.
But when his friends are gone
He sits alone,
The Trickster on his earthen throne.
The prophecy told
Reveals one soul
Who may arrive and break him free,
And upon that day
The kinds shall cry…
As he returns with a spree.
End of Part I
To be continued...