Walking barefoot in her Strawberry patch is our little farm witch ~
humming and swaying while she waters her vines...
she will grow them fat with juice and the darkest sweetest red.
she has been growing them for centuries, it seems
using her green thumb and kind disposition to coax them
~ from the ancient black-as-coal soil.
most of her plants are allowed to grow wild ~
but some of her plants are potted.
they thrive in moss-covered and hand thrown pots she has made
from the red clay that lies beneath the dark loam...
these she brings with her into her humble little farmhouse each Wynter ~
providing herself and her companions with much needed vitamins during the colder months.
~ she waters them daily using icy clear water from a secret wellspring
found deep in her old woods.
in the evenings, when the Moon wakes ~
she visits her garden once more
to hum her delicate blossoms and tender leaves to sleep
under a sky filled with glistening stars...
her opossum companion will follow her into the night-garden
to hunt for ticks and other insects
and hope the old girl will drop a few sweet berries from her apron pocket ~
then they will walk into the woods together at dusk to find treasures of nature:
hagstones by the creek, snail shells, and bleached fox bones.
such friends they are, the farm witch and opossum ~
blessed with the richness of nature and the freedom of being themselves,
...together.
Blessings from the Farm
~
Lori
