Sarita Armstrong

The Talisman

(from a dream I had)


In future times when all our present days

Are lost, and life is back to Stone Age ways,

I left my village with my dog and sought

A neighbouring clan, to bring from them

A talisman they wished to give, it being ours.


The smoke-dark yurt I entered, brave and tall;

A young man, handsome, proud - I knew him

From before - was there to greet me.

Upon my right an aged woman sat

Who disapproved the action to be taken.


Because of this a plan had to be sought :

The young man, unbeknown to me

Had put the talisman within a marrow bone

Well-plugged with fat and handed to the dog,

Who took it joyfully within the old crone’s sight.


Perhaps she knew or perhaps not but either way

It mattered naught. The plan was well-devised

For none but me could wrest the bone

From this dog’s maw. Trust was the key

‘Tween dog and me, and homeward off we set.


A three day journey ’cross a stony landscape,

The carefree dog abounding at my side.

Our clan with trepidation awaited my return,

But care I had to take along the way for dog

Might either bury bone or eat the talisman …


(2nd part next month)


© Sarita Armstrong 2008