The Falling Woman Of Kilbroney Park… A Poem

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The Falling Woman Of Kilbroney Park

by Mark Gibbons.

*** Every night she falls in repentant pain, on bloodied and bended knee. We have heard her cries ripple through this glen since 1663. The arched back, her hollow eyes, the smell of rotten skin. She has haunted them, she is haunting us, And she will haunt our next of kin. If you ever find some borrowed time, take a stroll through the Fairy Glen, and softly whisper your children’s names in safe company of a friend. And when you feel a sense of grief, so distant, cold and stark, You will be in the presence of Hell my friend, and The Falling Woman Of Kilbroney Park. Every morning she cries through lifeless eyes beneath the rising of Rostrevor’s sun. We have felt her tears through all these years, and her shrieks have left us numb. The crooked spine, her sickening face, the unrelenting harrowing moans. She has haunted them, she is haunting us, in her withering flesh and bone. If you ever find some borrowed time, take a stroll through the Fairy Glen, and softly whisper your children’s names in safe company of a friend. And when you feel a sense of grief, so distant, cold and grey, You will be in the presence of Hell my friend and The Falling Woman is on her way. Some say she falls on bended knee, to pray for a child once lost. Deserted by the rivers edge, And since then she counts the cost. The broken heart, her tortured soul, evil doings at it’s worst, She has haunted them, she is haunting us, Once a Mother, now horribly cursed. If you ever find some borrowed time, take a stroll through the Fairy Glen, and softly whisper your children’s names in safe company of a friend. And when you feel a sense of grief, so distant, cold and blind, Only then will you see the Falling Woman, As she stands there by your side. So now you know what you need to do, If you would like to receive a fright! For the Falling Woman Of Kilbroney Park, appears morning, noon and night. And thank you for reciting her name, a third time and no more, For the Fairy Glen can come again, She is standing at your door!

***

kilbroney poem

One of the picturesque jewels in the crown of South Down is Kilbroney Park near Rostrevor. With its woods and streams it has a mythical, timeless quality. A walk there at dusk will bring you back into another world where your imagination will take over, so prepare yourself for a major attack of goosebumps.

But as you wander through this world of ancient natural wonder, you are confronted by the character in the poem coming alive in your imagination.

Mark Gibbons, a budding young poet from Rostrevor, is heavily influenced by the poetry of WB Yeats who himself tuned into the world of the other-worldly and supernatural. This poem with its core vision of a dead woman with her flesh rotting from her bones is locked in a timeless world looking for a lost child by the waters’ edge.

It seems that some local people have in fact gone to the stream’s bank and recited the poem in an attempt to invoke the spirit of the Falling Woman. It has been said that some have even heard earie knocks on their door in the darkest hours of the night believing it was indeed her at their doorstep.

If you think you are really brave, and are a solid sceptic and don’t believe in the world of dreams beyond your experience of everyday reality, just take a copy of this poem and sit by the bank of the stream and recite the poem in the quiet of dusk. And let your imagination take you over! You will indeed find a new world out there… and you may even bump into the Falling Woman herself.

My advice is, if you do go and read this poem by the water’s edge, wear trainers. You can run faster with them on!

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