XXXII
To everyone who has ever sung the Handel song:
Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade,......
Where'er you sit, the blushing flowers shall rise,
And all things flourish ...where'er you turn your eyes.
On a recent country walk
I saw a calm, sunny glade,
The warm still air was flower scented
A babbling brook gently played.
But as I stopped and stood there
Enjoying the quiet peaceful scene
Chilly gusting winds sprang up
"Cool gales" is what I mean.
I gathered my things together
And left the breezy dell -
Instantly the wild winds dropped
And still calm silence fell.
Then I saw a grassy bank
And sat down in the sun
But the trees all crowded over me
One by one - by one.
As I trod the cool green paths
The blushing flowers did rise -
Brambles and dog roses bloomed
Before my startled eyes.
Where'er I looked plants flourished
Dandelions - nettles - dock,
Bind weed and sturdy thistles
My stocking-ed legs to mock.
Then I realised what had happened
I'd been cursed by Handel's song.
I'm sure he meant it kindly
But he was very wrong.
Was his love an independent lady
Who liked doing things on her own?
Perhaps the song was to discourage her
From wandering in the forest all alone.
Summer 2002
