The Castle and The Bow

The Castle and the Bow

Rapt attention, crowd hangs on note,

No thought in mind of stone walls, moat.

Yet yards away stand silent ramparts

Stark, cold in night yet in their hearts

Lilts and drives the breath of tune

Sprung to life in light of moon.

The vibrant tones leap from the fiddle

Belying truth of timeworn riddle.

For these grounds now ring with reel

And not the tragic clash of steel.

As men now play the notes of dance

And no army draws in advance.

The gathered crowd now stomps to beat

Instead of gathered soldiers’ feet.

Focused instead they stare at stage

And think not on the depth of age.

So now the bow bereft of quiver

Delights those present inspiring shiver.

For now the music, driving force

Is the only true recourse.

And so the men, not clad in mail

Have moved beyond historic Pale.

And, clapping, shout for jig, hornpipe

Unspurred to battle by harsh war pipe.

So bleak the stronghold’s walls now stand

Barraged by only clapping hands.

As one and all delight in song

Emotions soaring, the joyous throng.

Each now bends to hear the strain

And such is sad, the castle’s bane.

And though tied, blood-bound, to their souls

Is silent now of guard, patrol.

As music builds to shield its folk

Relieving ruins of history’s yolk.

Now bathed in light, bereft of foe

The castle bends to will of bow.

-  Parker Otwell Roe

Penned at the Castle Lane Tavern, Limerick, Ireland this 24th day of June, 2003, inspired by the divine music of Martin Hayes and Dennis Cahill.