Sunday 11 August 2013

HERBS:



 Where those rosemary scented winds blew wild,
Those places where I roamed, free as a little child,
Those green woods, of sage, thyme, basil & wild bay,              
Where old oaks stand strong & the young willows sway,          
Where herbal perfumes waltz with grey mists low lying,
Where ancient breezes call to the dead on their sighing,
Those magical groves where chanting Druids go wending,
And witches collect their herbs, gathering & low bending,       
In lavender forests, where in cauldrons, mead is brewed,
And wild golden honey & herbal concoctions are stewed,
Where senses are stirred & the mind in mystery is made,
I´m on my herbal way, to this world, farewell I´ll now bade.                 

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