A WINTER'S TALE

Spots of blood so starkly red

On fresh white snow had quickly led

The woodman to the cottage where

No woman, man, nor priest would dare

To enter; all good Christians knew

Here dwelt a thing of evil who

(Folks around these parts still say)

Consumed all those who passed this way.

But what this was he had to know -

He had seen no footprints in the snow!

Pushing wide the creaking door

He stepped inside – was seen no more.

 

His good wife searched the freezing wood

Following that trail of blood

Right past her husband’s laden cart –

Its fresh-cut holly pierced her heart.

Boldly she pushed the cottage door

And in the frosty gloom she saw

Her William beckon with a smile;

But she hesitated, thought a while.

 

No footprints in the pristine snow could

Testify to where he’d stood –

And yet the trail of blood shone bright

Like scarlet stars in a sky pure white.

Loud she invoked the Holy Mother,

Blessed Joseph, and any other

Saint with pity in their heart

For a peasant family torn apart

By evil such as dwelt within

This wretched house, filthy with sin.

 

Eyes closed, she prayed the Lord’s own Prayer –

Reached for Will’s hand – it was not there!

A bright light filled the hovel, then

A wondrous singing, not of men

But angel voices filled with grace.

And she saw the Blessed Virgin’s face.

Sweetly smiling, she raised her hand,

Bestowing blessings on this land.

 

‘Love for your Husband and your Saviour

Has raised you highly in my favour;

Now on this Eve of Christmas Day

You must kneel with me, and pray’.

And as they knelt she heard a sound:

Infernal screaming all around;

A rush of wind, a clap of thunder;

Then all was quiet.  She gazed in wonder;

A miracle on Christmas morn

Just as the Holy Child was born!

 

Will took her hand, they both walked free -

Fresh snow where demons used to be.

There was nothing left where once had been

The gates of Hell - and the Heavenly Queen.