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Writer's pictureMorgan Fagg

Sionann, I missed you

Throughout my life,

you have always been there

giving life and taking it too


From the North to the South

you have divided my town

but I don’t want to burn bridges

I just want to remember you


The tears you have lost

as a Celtic Goddess

with no swan song

the sculpture of a bearded face,

is that you looking back at me?


What pagan customs are remembered,

in Church Street and Custom House?

Where are you? Where can I find you?

I don’t even speak your Celtic tongue


The English spanned your banks

Vikings came and took your gold

but I feel so worthless and out of my depth

telling tales of mystic Celts, I never knew

in a time of prosperity, there is no cents


Like the second man to touch the salmon

I have no wisdom to remember your name

I believe they called you Sionann

and I am sorry I missed your call



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