Hear her moan, hear her cry, lonely phantom to the house draws nigh.

House of love she will descend, wailing and crying to get in.

Crying upon the window pane, calling to us she tries to explain.

“I deserted my family, my hearth, and home. Cursed am I to wander alone.

Peering through the windows, when no one can see, I weep for my family that will no longer be,

I am the Banshee in the rafters above. I cry when I find a home full of love.” 

There are many stories about the Banshee in Irish Mythology.  In most of them she is a harbinger foretelling the death of a family member.  A few Irish families are associated with this type of Banshee, but not mine

My family attracts a different breed of sprite.  Grandaddy Mulroy told me another version. Banshee was once a young woman who took the love of family for granted. To this day her spirit wanders the earth.

When she finds a loving home, she weeps for what she once had. Listen carefully on these windy March nights, you just might hear her calling.

Paul Martin Mulroy

Tullahoma