On the Wild Side

I’ve been around since the Tollund Man

(That’s 100 BC)

They still know me in Ireland

(and in the Hebrides)

I’ve been through the wars of Europe

(Including World War Two)

Napoleon gave me to his troops

(Within the Bread)

I’ve been given to sheep, pigs and hens

You’re the one who should take me in instead

Though I’m strong, I’m also mild

Pile me up high within a salad,
You can use my leaves, seeds and stems,
Prepare the first just like spinach,

But remember....

***********************************

Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall

some of the properties

of a plant,

plus its uses and looks.

If you'd like to hear them

as I am often on the wing,

You may contact me through

this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)

then I'll give you a ring.

***********************************

Copper Pot of Gold

There is a story

ancient old

about a copper

pot of gold,

tho’ not of the kind

usually sought by man,

but a living kind

that grows freely

upon the land,
whose value really

is quite priceless

and this was known

by a certain pirate

who gripped that pot

till the day he died

with a strength like iron

so that even if we dared

we could not pry it loose

with all our might;

He clutches it still

though all that's left of him

is bones

and perhaps the distant

moans and groans

of what he died of

mysteriously

as he sat at the base

of an old oak tree.

Really, truly

quite quite ponderous

as all about the scene

is an eerie green

like that of phosphorus

and engraved upon the pot

are words,

I believe for all of us

that to continue

to try and rid the world

of this gold

is preposterous

bordering

on

monstrous!

***********************************

Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall

some of the properties

of a plant,

plus its uses and looks.

If you'd like to hear them

as I am often on the wing,

You may contact me through

this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)

then I'll give you a ring.

***********************************

Faerie Lore

 

Lend an ear if you wish to hear

of the Lore about Faeries,

It's in the form of a poem
so I don't go on
too long
for fear of boring you.

Much is true, some poo... poo,

These are words used by others to describe us.

I shouldn't repeat them, should probably delete them
There are some faeries who may make a fuss.

So do keep all under wraps, or perhaps

they may twist and knot your hair,

All the while laughing, maybe even clapping

at your frustration and despair.

Yes, it may come as a surprise, we're not always nice,

In fact can be nasty.

Usually though, we jovial,
even helpful and happy.

One reason though I'll have you know,

we can can feel considerable displeasure,

Is when disrespect and destructiveness
is inflicted upon nature.

That's another story that may make you feel sorry

which is not my purpose today,

So I'll go on with my poem

without further delay.

We can be enormously ugly

Terribly beautiful and,
Awfully mischievous.

We're elusive, capricious, callous, gregarious,

a powerful enchanting muse.

We're keepers of wisdom, do not dismiss us
simply because we don't feel like you do.

We're delicate, tragic, beguiling, magic
and hold witness to you, too.

We're highly emotional, part of the ebb and flow
of cosmic tides and embody sensitivity,

We're inspirational, laughing, joyful

and are attracted to creativity.

We're creatures of raw stuff, simply adore those
to love to dance and sing,

We can glide over water, and are part of

invisible aspects within the world's workings.

You may see us glittering, twinkling, in flight
upon gossamer wings,

Hear a peal of bells, see us dancing in circles

to harps, reed whistles, tambourines.

We come from over the horizon, upon a misty island,

We live in the rocks, hills, trees,

even beneath your feet in the dirt.

We try to remind you of your connections

with each other and the earth.

We have many names

that have come over time

from numerous different places.

Like Ghillie Dhee, Gwaragedd Annwn (Gawrageth Anoon)

Killmoulis and Black Annis.

There are Pixies and Shee

Kobolds, Selkie,

Goblins, Spriggins, and Glaistig.

I think you’ll know

of Bogies and Dwarfs

maybe even the Will o’ Wisp.

Surely the Lepichaun,

perhaps the Browinie,

but there will be others
that are unfamiliar.

Like the Booka, Cluricaun, Coblynau,

(Ben-nee-yeh) Bean-nighe

and Knockers.

Hear of the Nuckelavee, (Leanan-Shee)Leanan-Sidhe

Puck, Redcap, and Urisk

There's the Alp-Luachra, Fenoderee

as a list, I think that’s it.

I’ll tell you a bit more

about one, two, three…

maybe four,

if you’re willing to listen…

Then, I will begin... 

********************

If you wish to hear more of this lore,

then do email me at the address below...

lovellsimonsjanet(at)yahoo(dot)ca

In the Groove, and Totally HOT!

From Hairy to Smooth

I’m in with the Groove,

Truly, I’m Hot

Tho’ some like me not.

They think that I’m square

When really I’m round

From black to white

I will pound

a punch of flavour

in many a dish,

I’m good with eggs, cheese, meat

soup, salad, fish.

Pound me back

when I’ve gone to seed,

Call me Mustard,

don’t call me weed,

As I can be useful

and good for you,

Grind me into flour,

add me to stew.

I’m fast growing,

all over the land

in almost every Province,

ditch, field, culvert,
wasteland.

I’ve many relations

some you might know quite well,

Cabbage, Radish, Turnip;

Rutubaga, and Kale…

There’s another I’ll mention

tho’ it might make you pout...

********************
Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall some of the properties,
also the plant's characteristics and looks.

If you'd like to hear them
as I am often on the wing,
You may contact me through
this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)
then I'll give you a ring.

***********************************

Velveteen Cloak

She wore a chocolate colored velveteen cloak

with soft warm down for the lining,

A chill wind plucked at her fine silk hair

into a dance, swirling, flying.

Over 300,000 stars burst forth

to join in this dance with the wind,

Seeds, really trying to catch a ride

for new life in distant lands.

Paul Typha stood tall, silent and still

remembering Latilia Folie,

This image impressed upon his mind

as it would for all eternity.

She said she’d be back

come next Spring

by the water

where they first met.

She pressed to him

with her love weaved in,

a doll lest he forget.

She need not fear, he held it dear,

His love would last forever,

He’d never dream, or be so green

as to fall for the charms of another.

Not even the one

who while quite young

resembled his tender sweetheart,

And tho’ now vivacious, bold and flirtatious,

To Latilia, he’d given his heart.

Even if he were free, he’d let her be

as much was told of her boldness,

To take her in might be medicine,

but it also could be poisonous.

This sent a chill through him until

he felt like his blood was congealing.

To rekindle warmth, he thought in due course

of his soft and sweet Lotilia.

Right from the start
She warmed his heart

He knew they’d be together,

She thought of him through thick and thin

He’d stand over and protect her.

Though she departed she knew in her heart,
he would be back come Spring

with the birds singing, collecting and bringing

soft down for their nests, within.

This got her thinking, she too would be bringing

home a fine collection...

... to be continued at an event
yours or mine,
give me a call
to find the time!

********************
Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall some of the properties,
also the plant's characteristics and looks.

If you'd like to hear them
as I am often on the wing,
You may contact me through
this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)
then I'll give you a ring.

Calling on the Dazzles

 Golden Yellow Sunbeams
were the dresses that they wore
when the Sharp-Toothed Lion
came knocking at the door.

You see he wasn't feeling right,
What it was he couldn't say,
It began early in the morning
between 6 and 7 that very day.

He'd heard these Dazzling Beauties,
the faeries of the hill
could help to ease his troubled tum
without the use of pills.

He saw them floating downwards,
their wings tucked in for now
as they had their parachutes
to help them to the ground.

He put away his sharp teeth

  tucked his claws in, too

as when seeking faerie help

  this is the polite and proper thing to do.

They gave him tender young leaves

  older, tougher, too

The young ones in a salad

  the older in a stew.

Of the roots,

They dried, pounded, powdered

  boiled, sliced and fried

Some he took internally

  a little applied outside.

Though he didn’t care for sliced roots

  boiled, fried or raw,

He didn’t mind the tonic tea

  It wasn’t bad at all.

Soon he felt his appetite

  coming back quite swell

so he thanked the Dazzles very much

  and left a gift as well.

The faerie clock closed up her arms

  as now the day was late

The lion bounded out the door

  As the faeries closed the gate.



********************

Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall some of the properties,
also the plant's characteristics and looks.

If you'd like to hear them
as I am often on the wing,
You may contact me through
this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)
then I'll give you a ring.

The Perfect Flower

Many, many long years ago, in Ireland (or so I’m told)

Queen Aine was to have a party
for fabulous fine guests, all of the best
dressed in gowns and attired smartly.

She invited first-rate famous elves
from within the entire land,
She also chose the finest of Faeries
This affair was to be quite grand.

“Oh do come,” she bid them from
the gold-edged invitation,
“You’ll enjoy the food
and the music will be good.
It will be a most memorable occasion.

The castle’s dressed in all our best
from gate to highest tower,
with ribbons, frills, tinkling bells,
and every kind of flower.

So naturally with the castle dressed
and with everything looking at its best,
the Queen thought of her wardrobe.

She needed something new
extravagantly so
she called forth for her Faeries,

and commanded they find
the best flowers in time
and to bring them for her inspection,
So faeries flew for flowers and perfume
in every possible direction.

Upon their return, the Queen did learn
they had successfully completed their mission
as they laid at her feet, in rows quite neat,
the finest of their collection.

Upon viewing the faeries flower collection,
the Queen became indecisive,
With so many to choose from
it was hard to pick just one,
The solution was elusive.




(listen to this poem)

                 

Apple Blossom so white
was a beautiful sight
and deserved the Queen's affection,

but it didn’t at all,
in fact made her stall
as she feared
it would wash out her
rosie complexion.

Daffodil and Crocus,
a lovely focus
as their color
is never a bore,
would’ve won the Queen over
along with the Clover,
but they had used these flowers

before...



She picked up the Tulips,

Tansies and Lillies,
her favourites everyone guesses,

but she already owned
had fashioned and sewn
these into every one of her dresses.

Now with these flowers eliminated
the Queen became frustrated,
and so she looked to the Poppy;
though brilliantly red
it appeared to her dead
as the leaves drooped down
rather sloppily.

Now feeling quite miffed
she gave Dandelion a sniff
and was filled with a lovely elation,
and her eyes were now locked
upon a Forget-Me-Not

and so she gave it considerable
deliberation,
Until her eyes did roam
upon a lovely rose,

but she knew this was far too popular,
and though she fancied the Pansy
she began to feel antsy

as by now
she wasn't at all sure.

She gathered up a Thistle,
got jabbed by a prickle

and felt like she really
might cry,
when she spotted
the Pink
and began to think,

"Why not give this flower a try!"...

... [to be continued at an event,
yours or mine will be quite fine.]


***************************

Within the writing of many of my poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall
some of the properties
of a plant,
plus its uses and looks.

If you'd like to hear them
as I am often on the wing,
You may contact me through
this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)
then I'll give you a ring.

The above particular story
was actually made to be a game
for children to run, laugh and play
as they learn of
various flower's names.

********************