HERBS

“Wake , Wake-Robin, All-Good, Sweet- Buckeye. Male-Fern for Tall-Veronica, White-Angel, Lad’s Love is in the garden.  Fasten your Bitter-Buttons, Chicken-toe. run Red-Cock’s-Comb through Flea-Bane, Blue Curls, swallow your Butter-and-Eggs, the Simpler’s-Joy –  get out to her, then.”

“Sweet-Scented-Life-Everlasting, Tall-Veronica” he called, raising his Ragged-Cap ,my Bird-On-The-Wing, Star-Of-The-Earth – how are  you?”

“Lady-Bleeding, you Banal, Bastard-Saffron, all over my White-Sandal, and my Ladies-Mantle…Can’t you see?…Oh, Stinking-Hellebore!”

“Holy-Gold, Mother-Of-Thyme –  a Nosebleed…what a Bruisewort” he exclaimed, “Oh,let me Heal-All with a Khus-Khus…Tare…All-Good. Boneset”.

“Bladderwrack…Loose-strife” the Lady-Bleeding shrieked,  a Hore-hound in Reality. “ Get Hog- Physic – a Fit-Weed…..Hops, don’t Crawly, I am only Mortal.  Look, my Red-Eyebright already “

“I Lammint. Passion-Flower…I go”  And Wake-Robin ran.

*                                *

Ginger, Bouncing-Bet, Briar Hips swinging, came along with her Step-Mother, Old-Woman Hag-Berry.   “Aloe, Tall Veronica, what are you doing in the Gutter-Tree…Taking a Rest-Harrow?   Or do you Pine for your Jack-In-The-Pulpit, Queen’s-Delight?”

Tall-Veronica, thinking ‘Dog’s-Poison’ to those Pear of Henbane, remained silent.

“Hm…Catnip got your Adder’s-Tongue?”  Snapdragon, Step-Mother.

“It is a Privy Madder” Tall-Veronica replied, Bittersweet but losing Patience.

“Have some Ladies Tobacco” Stepmother offered.

“Oh, Marigold, No”  The Lady-Bleeding said. “ It gives me Gag-root, Vomit-Root,  Lungwort and probably even Cancer-Root…Besides, I am carrying a little Papoose-Root.”  And she waved the Soldier’s-Herb away.

“Haw” snickered Bouncing-Bet.  That’s an Owler I must say…whose is it, Wild Basil. Possibly?”

“My lips are Solomon-Seal about the whole Helenium”   Prim, Tall Veronica rejoindered.

*                                    *

Wake-Robin returned with Hog-Physic and Old-Man, Dwarf-Elder.

“Palma-Christie, what a Thyme you took…apply Heartsease to Nosebleed, Cowslip……Ahhh…now I have Feverfew…”

“Er…Love-Vine”  Wake-Robin Coughwort, “Would you Scurvish to accompany me to the Publick-House-Plant to Calf-Kill a glass or two of Rum Cherry?”

“Make mine an Indian-Black-Drink – a double – and I’ll be right with Yew”  Tall-Veronica was no Pansy, she liked a Nip.

So, off they Crawl-Grass on their Date-Palm – Wake-Robin full of Pride-Weed and False Pimpernel.

Judith Kane