Alchemisland

Farmers say 

Eel pickers around Lough Neagh 

Descend from Hunter Gatherers, whilst they

Descend from Neolithic farmers, those whose grave markers 

Astound, yet drawing remark millenia later

Evidence of life here thirty three thousand years ago, I don’t remember a masonic period before the ice age

This old race were dark skinned, blue eyed, in stature diminutive 

They fished, otherwise subsisting on foraged berries and roots 

They came by boat from Britain, how typical

In currachs, in crude hide ferries

They were here before the faeries, perhaps they are the faeries

They are perhaps our Fir Bolg

The landbridge was gone, the men of the dawn 

Age made cunning flints, they did not raise megaliths

This dating, can it be leant credence? 

Does John Creedon know every lost name? 

Then the fashion in the academies was to link all to antiquity, a tragedy for those ancient sites, stones dragged, treasures freed from troves locked eternal 

There was desperation to correlate the henges and legends of our nation 

To those revered and glorious ancient civilisations

Ireland a satellite, a station for the stopping of the ways of other nations

To correlate site dates with power height of Grecian states sates academic lust for negation of Pagan places

Pagans had no sages, only cruel Druids and cult fathers and demonic ensorcellers, gone with the grove fellers

If their temples hath no power 

Why then churchspires o’er them tower

Where wooden idols supremed now graven saints glower 

Churches, chapels, rectories, monasteries, entire diocese

All former sites of pagan rite.

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Perhaps our first farmers arrived

Neither bell nor beaker 

Book and candle impossibly distant 

And found gatherers therethriving 

Diving for fish in teeming waters

Coupling with their buxom daughters

A goddess, lunar or solar in origin, they laud her with adorations, her thighbreadth the strength of many united, a nation in rudest fashion

Factions in education suggest conflict

The farmers sought to inflict

Maximum damage to ensure resources

Enough for them, resorting to genocidal

Methods of ensuring survival, how your newly arrived tribe can thrive and stay alive on the presumed-empty occupied island

It did not exist then, empathy 

Only strength and venom, potential 

They had no metal and potentially possessed strange mental powers

They cultivated lentils, beans, planted thousands of flowers with healing powers

They rid the land of every bower 

Ninety percent of treecover showered with stone and flame

To tame a land with rake in hand the reins of man

But this is only one man’s dreams of what happened in ancient Éireann 

Perhaps farmers and gatherers in most places intermarried and interbred 

This was Ireland before redheads, the Gatherers were black and the proto farmers were brown, bronzed in the southern climes 

Where a forest clearing stood before

Stand before a clearing free of trees

Shorn of grass, bald and naked raped goddess 

Shattered oak, sundered beech

No more do hazel hawthorne meet

Our forests clearers arrived nearer our dreams of what a real world resembled in prehistory.