Fairy stories

In the Irish myth cycles, the land of Tir na nOg is the realm of the Otherworld, the place where the Fae lived and heroes visited on quests. It was a place just outside the realm of man, off to the west, where there was no illness or death or time, but only happiness and beauty.

It is important to note that Tir na nOg was not so much an “afterlife” as it was a an earthly place, a land of eternal youth, that could only be reached by way of magic.
~LearnReligions.com

The most famous story associated with Tir na nOg (Land of Eternal Youth) is that of Oisin and Niamh:

Golden-haired Niamh is the princess of Tír na nÓg, the Land of Youth, who dreamt of Oisín and comes to ask him to return to Tír na nÓg. He gladly does, and they marry. After more than 300 years of living together, Oisín, who does not realize how much time has passed, asks to visit Ireland. Niamh, who realizes he will be disappointed, reluctantly agrees, warning him not to touch the ground there. He accidentally does, whereupon he ages three hundred years and dies without seeing Niamh again.

Niamh and Oisin

Wishing you could turn over our problems to the fairies and let them handle it? Poet Claire Hermann considers it, thinking about the myth of "the fairy tithe," where every seven years a "fee" must be paid or a penalty will be invoked. What if you wanted the penalty?

A tithe to Hell
by Claire Hermann

Ay at the end of seven years we pay a tiend to hell;
I am sae fair and fu o flesh and feared it be mysel.
—Tam Lin, Child Ballad 39A

I walk alone in the winter field,
and men in camo stomp over to inform me this is private property.
I look up at Orion in the still of midnight,
and the neighbor’s security light comes on.
The forests out east are pulped and pelleted,
and the swamp rises salty over the roots of the cypress,
and we pour exhaust into the mouths of the sky
until it spits back hurricanes and heat waves.
The hills above the ocean char to black.
I am done with petitions and marching.
Let us leave bowls of milk on the steps for the fae.
Let them creep from underground...

read the rest here

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[fiction instead of lies] has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Tanita!