The Willow Maiden

For Willow, who gave me courage when needed.



The willow maid lies sleeping
within old willow bole
her golden mantle shed once more
the damp ground thickly litters



Old willow tree is dreaming too
of summers past the counting
his bony fingers stroke the ground
caressing tiny saplings
he is content, can sleep again
till winter solstice passes
then longer days within his veins
the sap will drive and quicken

While snow still lingers all around
and gales may storm and whip him
his wily toes long chilled, draw upward life
with pink and golden twigs he glistens

While winter lingers
willow maid is dreaming dreams of spring
the snows are gone
she stretches eyelids fluttering

His old heart gladdens with new strength
the living sap shoots upwards
gold buds his head bedeck
she prances forth in joyous dance
in whirling loosened catkins
her golden hair is clad

The green of willow fronds she weaves
about her gleaming head
soft supple limbs with leaves are decked
as dancing forth she goes

In summer's languid heat she lies
upon the river bank
her cooling toes and fingers
in lazy water waving
the fish and river creatures
craving her cooling shade

Till once more blow the winds of change
with driving rain and golden leaf
she whirls the season's bidding.

Winter weeding and gardeners' hands

My garden guardian

Perfumed white violet


The hole

Just returned from foray into garden, dug great hole and added yummy mix of sheep, cow and blood and bone to bottom of same at second spade depth level. 'The Alnwick' rose whose pink clashes with 'Graham Thomas' will get a new residence, it, and it's twin, will flank 'Abraham Darby' to balance the other side of my nescent secret garden with 'Just Joey' supported by two 'Jude the Obscure'. Don't you just love the name? It cunjures up times of chivalry and romance, of wimples and siken slippers. I digress. Back to earth.

Aren't you green with envy that I can just trundle down the
hill with my trusty barrow and fill it up at the sheep yards?
Then comes the hard bit, hoping that my daughter or one of
the grandies will take it up again. Not so bad really, usually
score a cup of tea while asking.


My back resenting the exertion, straightened opening a view
of the first rather moth eaten golden Jonquil,



also the grass having sprung up with the few days of rain
threatening knee height and blanketing beds and paths on
its inexorable march to infinity.



Can you guess what I mean when I say weeding, they sprang up while I was pruning roses ... really sneaky!

I'm game, I actually love , yes, Love weeding. Now I must tell you,
I am a person of great forsight, the Boyscouts motto and all that
you know....I always liked boys....ah well.... I bent to indulge myself
with an ogry of weeding only to discover that my heart had become
so jealous of my knees it would not allow my head anywhere near
them. A bit of a disappointment but I have my ways and means,
so down I went on one knee in proposing mode. Remember the
Boyscouts? Yes I was prepared for any eventualiy, my gardeners'
hands were soaked in Skin Repair to their eye balls, I wore gloves.
I even wear gloves at night to evade awakening to mysterious stiff
Polish sausages grafted to my wrists. Well there I was enjoying my
orgy when I spied some tufts of grass among the Freesias. The clump
of Freesias was rather thick and gloves are not known to distinguish
between them and grass. My right glove came off, but only for a
moment you understsand, and, as my knee was getting a bit stiff
from moisture and cold and hard ground, it formed a little, but
effective, insulator. Thereafter I did what I like doing best....
I weeded with gay abandon, savouring the moist earth, talking to
the worms and squashing the armies of little white imported snails.
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My cup runneth over. I am at peace.
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Flowering at the moment
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Surprise in the shade-house
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A violet from my mothers garden many years ago
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Cosmos in mid-winter?
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Tanacetum parthenium (Feverfew) with pine mushroom in background
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The first Hyacinth
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Ipheion uniflorum
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Ruby grapefruit, not really aflower, but so bright
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Glowing ruby seeds on honeysuckle
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Hail pelting down on front path.