The Green Man

The Green Man Mirror of a man in nature Swayer in the faerie golden age Viewed now mere pastiche Almost forgotten but a still power to enchant Accept his largesse a gift it is devoid of slant Strong as any tired worshiped god all demanding Country a walks pleasure our mutual understanding But hear me now Listen and ignore at your peril Who makes you drive fast – it’s he Wicked vivacious and most un PC Air of expectation and congenial good cheer A carousing a love of cider and cool beer Country in old oaks and strange village Morris dance Carnal a man and woman’s amorous springtime romance Shame trapped in towns no power of green A rare golden coin neither sought nor seen But relax and enjoy there’s no shame nor disgrace Late afternoons warm sun his pleasure on your face