There was heat in the sun today.
The elder showed the tips of her first leaves.
Rich dark green they were,
sprouting through sandy coloured bark.
Not a hint of yellow, that in abundance
saturate the new leaf of many a tree
seen as spring whispers her promise
to defrost winter in the days.
Wild and free.
You are a queen among fruiting trees.
Sacred to the Celts.
There is no taming you.
Make you adorn the garden like the rose.
Domesticate you like the apple.
You run among hedge rows
for all to take your flower, your fruit.
Birds to gorge themselves.
People to dine with you.
Drinking the whiteness of your flower.
The black , red purple of your fruits.
The Elder Tree
2007 ©