Boakesey Closs is the ninth Manx Bard.

Each month, Boakesey will be sharing one of her poems with us, and letting us know some of the thoughts and ideas that inspired it.

This month’s column is brought to you by the letter ‘c’, for ‘Christmas’, ‘cammag’ and ‘Covid’.

Yes, it’s finally got me, despite having had all of my jabs.

Thankfully, it’s only a mild dose compared to many of my friends, so I’m being a patient patient and staying at home till it passes. I suspect it’s an unwelcome souvenir of a recent trip to North-East England.

I’m currently undertaking online postgraduate study in therapeutic writing, so that from the new year I can establish Writing for Well-Being workshops across the island.

My university invited me over in my capacity of Manx Bard. I was interviewed for the university television channel, taken out to lunch by the Dean and have been invited back to run some workshops for their undergraduate students.

A great way of spreading the word about the Isle of Man and poetry.

In the run up to Christmas I’m going to be reading seasonal poems at Noble’s Hospital and visiting some of the residential homes across the island. I’ll also be upholding Manx traditions, dating back to pre-Christian times in some cases.

Hunt the Wren is one of my favourites, as is the game of cammag.

This month’s poem is the true story of how it came to be invented and was part of my winning entry for The Manx Bard competition.

I wish you all slightly early Season’s Greetings and look forward to sharing a Happy New Year with you all.

Manannan’s Revenge (The Ballad of Cammag)

Back in the time of Sea Kings, Godred Crovan ruled this Isle,

His men preferred the Southern lands and settled there awhile.

The Celtic Manx were shifted to the Northern hills and plains

And so began the rivalry which to this day remains.

To settle disagreements, a Norse Tynwald soon was called,

But squabbles still got violent, poor King Orry was appalled

And so, to stop the fighting, keep it under his control

An annual sporting contest would be held, with stick and ball.

The North would ‘play’ against the South, St. Stephen’s Day each year

On neutral territory, Tynwald’s field, to be quite clear.

Quite soon this game, called ‘cammag’ became the true Manx fella’s quest

Celts against the Norsemen, sure the Celts would be the best!

Manannan helped the Northern Manx, as much as he was able

But Thor turned up to help the South and soon he turned the tables.

Back and forth the action flowed, the competition fierce

Sticks and balls a-flying, opposition’s goal to pierce.

Generations passed. You cannot tell who’s Norse or Celt

Migration, integration made it really how you felt

In choosing sides. In fact, these days, it doesn’t really matter

Who or where you’re from, because the players simply batter

The ball into the nearest goal and that will be a ‘score’

A cheer from old Manannan and a groan or two from Thor.

Whilst, sitting on the Tynwald Hill, invisible to mortals,

The other Gods take bets on who this year will take the laurels.

But, Manannan has a secret, known to just a chosen few.

I know I’m not supposed to say, but now I’m telling YOU,

Thor may have his hammer but Manannan’s got a cloak

Which even in the drizzle has capacity to soak.

Should Northern Manx be overcome & the Southies win the game

Manannan makes his feelings known by sending LOADS of rain.

But no, not in the winter time, to spoil the Yuletide snow

He waits until the summer, then he drowns the Southern Show.