General Chat

Hello Mary

I have to admit that I have never heard the poem before.

I googled......."she with the weaving fingers tore It"....and up it popped.

http://www.bing.com/search?q=she+with+the+weavering+fingers+tore+it&form=IE10TR&src=IE10TR&pc=HPNTDFJS

It is quite beautiful. <3

Prickles, xxx

PricklyHolly
I cannot believe you have given me an answer so quickly to my poem search - I have searched quite a lot on poetry sites without success and have also been in contact with the Punch folk! Thank you so much.
I think there is a line missing from your version though, preceding "Hawthorn with her needle mended it" there was some tree or other "who for a (shroud?) intended it" - could have been a prickly holly just cannot remember.............. Does this jog your memory even further?
Rambling Rose, Prickly Holly - roll on the Spring with its green veil.

http://fleet.urc.org.uk/?p=5900

"At the beginning of February, with temperatures below freezing, the willow trees were already displaying their furry, silver catkins. Then the Redwings arrived: annual visitors from Scandinavia.
In the following poem one senses the slow, silent, mysterious advance of Spring in the countryside. Entitled ‘The Green Veil’, it was first published by Punch magazine at the turn of the century – author unkown. It is a favourite of mine. I hope you enjoy it too.
Eric Perry"

Welcome to the boards Mary.

The Green Veil

It was the Willow who first wore it
Until her weaving fingers tore it
On the moss-grown wall,
Weeping, she let it fall.
But Hawthorn with her needle mended it
Washed it and spread it out to dry.
A March wind, galloping by,
Seized it and threw it over Ash and Oak
Who for a joke, tied pale ribbons on it
And made the Almond wear it as a bonnet.
Almond ripped off the bows and took a tuck in it
To make a frill for Chestnut’s wrist
But Chestnut’s treacly thumbs got stuck in it.
Her neighbour, Quince,
Unwound it twist by twist, gave it a rinse,
And by the ivory moon sat all one night
Embroidering it in stars of white,
For gipsy Cherry, Plumb and Pear
To twine in their wild hair.
So it is passed and passed
Continuously, from tree to tree:
Used now for this, now for that -
As garland, coronet, hat
And at the last, by Poplar, as a broom
To sweep her room,
And then away, away
Into the auction rooms of May
Where all the rags and riches of the Spring are sold
For Cowslips gold,
And auctioneering crickets pass
Between the tufty stems of grass
Crying, “For sale! For sale!
A green veil.”

It begins "It was the willow who first wore it -
She with her weaving fingers tore it".
It depicts the gradual arrival of Spring I believe, moving from tree to tree.

I know it was called "The Green Veil".

It finishes with something like "And auctioneering crickets pass
Through the something blades of grass
Crying FOR SALE, FOR SALE, A GREEN VEIL!"
Seem to remember we first saw it in the magazine Punch many years ago.