The Devil’s Table

Where the devil comes to make his feast,
On cliffs that cut off to east,
His table stone and half a ruin,
In a shadow of a church on dune.
400 years or more have past,
He comes just once to break his fast,
To a spread of wine, prunes and figs,
And to his fiddle; a merry jig,
By the light of moon and a sky quite teal,
He takes his leave and ends his meal,
With nothing left but a stain of wine,
On the table where the devil dines.

This is my D poem for the A to Z challenge.
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

My A-Z is based on Northumberland, and the myths and monsters that lurk within.

When I was younger, there was a story of a stone table at Church point in Newbiggin, years of rumors labelled this as ‘The Devil’s Table, where if you went, ouji board in hand, you could make contact with the devil himself. Age made us wiser and we came to realise the table was in fact a memorial with weathered writing. However this little story has always stuck in my mind, and from it has sprouted this little rhyming tale.

My poems kind of lead onto one another so I do suggest you read the poem before it to get the gist.

Advertisements

15 thoughts on “The Devil’s Table

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s