A POEM A DAY - FOX GLOVES
On an uninspired, tired day I was delighted to receive this lovely photograph of a foxglove flower from my brother Chris Knight on his visit to Kinver woods near Stourbridge in England. The foxglove was one of my favourite flowers when I was a child and I was told many tales about the plant, reflecting its rich history in myth and medicine. The bell like flowers could be slippers for the wily fox to soften his pad in the hen house, or they were homes to tiny flying fairies, hiding from view. They would make a perfect purple hat for a pixie or a silken bed for fairy babies. The plant itself is seen to sway on its tall, leggy stems even when there is no breeze and another myth suggests it is bowing in respect to the passing Fae.
I was not allowed to touch the plant, only look as it would upset the fairies. A little older and not such a believer in fairies I learned that it is highly poisonous, causing stomach upsets and even dangerous heart effects if any part of the plant is ingested.
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