Written: June 16, 2024
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Hope had gray hair and looked downcast,
Amid grieving and fears, hope is obscene.
At night, just a rocket and fanal were seen,
Life disappears into shrouds, leading to a blast.
Did the hurling and horrible air have a heart?
A single eye read the unformed wonder or boom.
He was the one who proved the current loom,
The quiddity draws the skies and earth apart.
Lord, my petition and argument are both fair,
What bears devils successful and me a failure?
Revolve their decay if the pair were my jailers,
Chervil-lined banks and curbs quiver with new air.
My sapient wairua creates an Elixir riddle ban,
Hoarding and ignoring nature led to a span.
Categories:
chervil, analogy, nature,
Form: Sonnet
I walked with heavy childish feet
Where galaxies of white Chervil towered
And asphalt ribbons did dance on air
dividing fields of early summer flowers
On that shimmering Tournant road
from Tynte Park cross to an iron hill
Blossoms in the June sunshine
staying so silent and peacefully still
Before me each cheating rise
a false promise to a child alone
With five shillings spent on a silver toy
to shoot black crows on my way home
Granite walls of the graveyard now behind
my burning feet soon rest on cooler slate
I will listen to the Stanley's hiss
and boil its sap with the last of that good light
I'd listen to the gentle swing, tick and tock
struggling to keep time on those balmy nights
While shadows eventually bury her black clock
As moths gather about her death stained light
Categories:
chervil, childhood, summer,
Form: I do not know?
Walking across dry green fields grass knee high so rich so very dark,
I lifted my scythe high and it swept over the meadow with sharp ease,
Cutting the perennial clover as it filled the air with a sweet scent,
A razor sharp scythe dropping the yellow goats beard and dog daisies.
The dreaded scythe chopped the chervil under hedges, trees and fences,
Next the yellow rattle, the lotus and beautiful quake-grass and poas,
The day moved on quickly so down went the fescues and rough cocksfoot,
In the rank grounds, the wild oats and darnels by the small waysides.
Nothing would be left as the red pensile panicles and covered foxtails,
The timothy fell with their spikes on the edge of shaded wood forests,
And the light air-grass and the purple burnet all through the meadows,
I took my shirt off the twig of a tree and me and the scythe went home.
Categories:
chervil, nature, yellow,
Form: Prose Poetry
Walking across dry green fields grass knee high so rich so very dark,
I lifted my scythe high and it swept over the meadow with sharp ease,
Cutting the perennial clover as it filled the air with a sweet scent,
A razor sharp scythe dropping the yellow goats beard and dog daisies.
The dreaded scythe chopped the chervil under hedges, trees and fences,
Next the yellow rattle, the lotus and beautiful quake-grass and poas,
The day moved on quickly so down went the fescues and rough cocksfoot,
In the rank grounds, the wild oats and darnels by the small waysides.
Nothing would be left as the red pensile panicles and covered foxtails,
The timothy fell with their spikes on the edge of shaded wood forests,
And the light air-grass and the purple burnet all through the meadows,
I took my shirt off the twig of a tree and me and the scythe went home.
Categories:
chervil, nature, yellow,
Form: Prose Poetry
asparagus fritatta
pickled cucumber
wild chervil and sorrel soup
sweet potato cake
poppy seed crackers
leek tartlet
wine!
Categories:
chervil, food
Form: Epulaeryu