healingwords: poetry for the soul

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 ...

Back today to Irish woods, to Cnoc Meadha in County Galway where nature, myth and magic combined. I love this forest walk through ancient trees, jewelled with emerald moss, lit with filtering sunlight,  residence of  Finnbheara, King of the Connacht fairies, burial place of home to  Finnbheara and Queen Maeb.

I came across this old tree trunk on a walk near my home. It reminded me of the 'night drives' of my childhood. After waiting for my baby brother to see a train pass at the level crossing, we would drive round the lanes spotting night creatures in the headlights before stopping to see the faery tables, a field of old tree stumps where the woodland folk would eat and dance. This poem is a homage to my parents who gave me a lifelong love of all things dancing at the edge of our imagination.  FAERY SEAT Abandoned grove reclaimed as hand of man retreats, Garroba limbs twined with over grown olives, silver blades flashing as wood chimes with birdsong. Old Garroba, hollowed by years of fruitful giving, sweet smell of carob mingles with pine scent, tree perfume wafting on freshening night air. Sculptured wood cave, cragged bark lined with woven cushion, sharp needles softened as green fades to shades of autumnal decay. The...