Poetry

escape from Shallot

Oranmore castle

Escape from Shallot

Restless lady,
Busy weaving,
Alone, enclosed,
And fretful, anxious,
About prophesied ruin.

Heed not
Hearsay curses,
Imagined evil,
That will slay you,
If you dare spy outside.

Your mind
Binds you
Faster than guards,
Or the thick walls
You labour behind.

Rise up!
Look out!
At the world resplendent.
None can impede you,
If your will remains.

Be easy
Be gentle
Step to the window,
See what awaits you,
And walk towards the door.

Maura McHugh


Some thoughts on ‘The Lady of Shalott’ by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

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