By Donna Ferguson Dudley
Word Count: 145
Rated: G
Summary: A short poem about the Hawthorn Tree, and its significance to the Faeries of Ireland.
“Sidhe is pronounced Shee, and the Sidhe are the Faeries, of Ireland”
Ne’er cut down the Hawthorn Tree, if free, from woe, thou wouldst be!
Its flowers, delicate and white, bless Spring, with their enchanting sight
As Sidhe’s own Tree, this bright briar’s known; ’tis wise, to leave its wood, alone!
For help, (Sidhe granted) folk rely, on Hawthorn, and to branches, tie,
A strip, rent, from their own attire, or anything, Sidhe might desire,
As gift, granted, in soft appeal, for wish, Sidhe might, perhaps, fulfill!
The Sidhe oft’ gather, ’round the tree, for merry-making, dancing glee,
And wisest farmers, careful, find, the Sidhe return respect, in kind!
But, hurting Hawthorn tree, somehow, or damaging, with careless plow,
Returns misfortune, in its wake, so wisest souls, for safety’s sake,
Surround, with boulders, to protect; ’tis foolish, to that step, neglect!