Céad Míle Fáilte ~ A Hundred Thousand Welcomes!

Here we seek a rest in the shade, some cool water and a little kindness. This blog is dedicated to peace, truth, justice and a post- industrial, post-petroleum illumined world in spite of all odds against it. I very much like the line about the ancient knight (see poem below) "His helmet now shall make a hive for bees" It is reminiscent of "beating swords into ploughshares" a sentiment I heartily approve of. Thank you for visiting ~ I hope you return!

Waterfall Animation Pictures, Images and Photos

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Welcome to The Rosemary Tree!

Welcome to The Rosemary Tree!
Also known as the herb of grace, and rue, it has deep associations with penance, resurrection, nativity and joy.
Rosemary: In Europe, rosemary is considered the Christmas herb. In its native land (the Mediterranean area) rosemary grows as a tall hedge. Legend has it that rosemary shrubs grow to 6 feet tall in 33 years (the height and age of Christ) but ceases it vertical growth once it is 6 feet so as never to stand taller than Jesus did. Another tale says that during the flight to Egypt, the Virgin Mary draped her blue cloak over a white flowering rosemary bush to dry. The blooms have been blue ever since to represent Mary’s blue cloak.
"Legend abounds around this lovely perennial known as the "herb of remembrance." It is said that rosemary will grow particularly well in gardens tended by strong-willed women. Young brides traditionally carried a sprig of rosemary in their wreaths or wedding bouquets. The young couple may even have been brought together with the magic of a touch of rosemary, as in the refrain of an old ballad: "Young men and maids do ready stand/With sweet rosemary in their hands." Greek scholars wore a bit of the pungent herb in their hair when engaged in study as an aid to increase concentration."
The Old Knight
His golden locks time to silver turned;
O time too swift,
O swiftness never ceasing;
His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurned,
But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing;
Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green.
His helmet now shall make a hive for bees;
And, lovers' sonnets turned to holy psalms,
A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers, which are age's alms;
But though from court to cottage he depart,
His saint is sure of his unspotted heart.
And when he saddest sits in homely cell,
He'll teach his swains this carol for a song;
"Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well,
Curst be the souls that think her any wrong."
Goddess, allow this aged man his right,
To be your beadsman now, that was your knight.
~ by George Peele
Welcome to my brand-new blog.
"She had long accepted the fact that happiness is like swallows in spring. It may come and nest under your eaves or it may not.You cannot command it. When you expect to be happy, you are not, and when you don't expect to be happy, there is suddenly Easter in your soul, though it be mid-winter." ~ Elizabeth Goudge
You can also find me here.

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