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Sorcery by Jeanne C. Howes in Connecticut Beyond the log where jacks-in-the-pulpit grow, Beyond the castle carved of granite rock, Come secret whisper soft and low And follow me along a hidden walk. Greenvelvet moss cushions a carpet way, Fern fronds prepare the fairy violins, Brush gently by the bushes' veiled display, Step softly where the magic place begins. There, in the shade, a glimmer and a spell! From twin green leaves deep-rooted in the mold, A slender shaft droops with a rosy shell, Delicately veined along the full-lip fold. Across the hillside in this quiet grove Enchanted orchids. not for human touch, Assembled by the dozen, by the drove, Held by some witchcraft in a sleepy hush. They stand apart and regally as queens, Pink lady slippers dreaming of a dance, When peepers shake their moonlight tambourines, And princes come to break a silver trance.
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| copyright ©2006 The Country Woman |
