Professor Tarnasus In the Great Temple of Stone, Mud and Illusion, New Year's Day, 1918.

Tarnasus, in his tweeds, knelt, bowed to the salty earth

and his tartan deerstalker fell into the mud.

He apologised, unfurled his kerchief,

displayed a bluestone charm

fashioned into a dream-image – a hound of the forest.

"Do not be afraid" he said and we nodded,

cautious in our wonder, and Tarnasus nodded

back. The sky darkened; the air chilled the earth;

bird song, conducted by an unseen hand, echoed madness in the forest.

Was Tarnasus playing his old tricks again ? From the mud

An apparition rose up bearing a death-charm

for all to see. The professor pursed his lips and waved his kerchief.

Not knowing what else to do, I waved my kerchief

too. The oak forest began to tremble. Tarnasus nodded

again (several times). The excarnations (a scene of wonder) brittled with ice and charm.

"Do not show fear" said Tarnasus and invoked his most secret hymn of earth:

stone rising on stone; stone cleansed by the sweet river’s mud,

stone encircled by ancient hollows. Tarnasus raised his deerstalker in the direction of the forest.

A flash of silver and the apparition’s gutting tool drew blood. The ghost rapidly dissolved into the forest.

Still Tarnasus remained resolute. He hissed like a viper into his kerchief

staggered into the great stone mouth of the temple of mud.

These were his final moments, the time, he said, when hounds would appear,                        

                                                                                                              running

in the unfolding dawn-light, before the great king hound crossed the earth.

The last moon-fall cast its spell; Tarnasus shivered and clawed at his charm.

At day's break, exhausted, he whispered, "Those same hounds will protect this    

                                                                                                   bluestone charm

bark into the Baltine fires. It is their right to be here, in the forest

and in this great circular megalith, this wonderous temple of stone, earth

and illusion." So said Tarnasus extending his arms, waving his kerchief

at the horizon. The sun's rays unfolded before us and we nodded

as we had been instructed in honour of the temple and mud

before a woman emerged through the lintels, her cloak soaked by the mud -

a young druidess dressed in white, her fine hair resplendent with charms.

We raised our hands in praise of her and sang Tarnasus’ earth hymn, nodded

Once again, the sweet scent of the trees in the forest

Carrying the spirit of Tarnasus skywards, his face covered with his kerchief.

The druidess blessed us with libations, the musk of new earth.

And we nodded, smeared our faces with mud

Gave thanks to the earth, as each kissed the bluestone charm

Then bore Tarnasus to the forest, waving our kerchiefs.