Monday, 13 June 2011

Where the Bee Sucks...

Wandering among the foxgloves in the garden,
and again watching  the bees,
  I found myself thinking of the song,
""Where the bee sucks, there suck I,
In a foxglove's bell I lie.. "
You see when I was a chirruping little girl growing up in Wales, singing was second nature,
and each Sunday School, school, and often town, 
would, from time to time have it's mini  
(If you don't know what this is you can read the foot note below*taken from

Local Eisteddfodau
aren't such grand affairs of course,
but they are still the platform for much fine rendering of verse and music
and are highly competetive affairs. 
Non of us would have dreamt that out own Eistedffod was "mini" in any way,
and hours of practice went in before the great day itself.

I sang in a choir and one of our performance pieces was,
"Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip’s bell I lie;..."
Sweet as the cowslip is,
don't you think it's too narrow for
a bee?
The words, are of course by Shakespeare,
who was born  in Stratford on Avon,
just down the road from where I live now.

 The thing is, I really think old Shakepeare got it wrong.

I know that if I were a bee,
(no, honestly, it isn't any meds I'm on ),
I would find the glorious speckled bell of a foxglove much more enticing.
 Wouldn't you? 
 God Bless

*Strictly speaking  "Eisteddfod" is Welsh for "session, 
and is the formal assembly of Welsh bards and minstrels
that originated in the traditions of medieval court bards. 
Early eisteddfods were competitions of musicians 
(especially harpists)and poets
from which new musical, literary, 
and oratorical forms emerged.
The assembly at Carmarthen in 1451 authoritatively established the arrangement
of the strict metres of Welsh poetry. 
The modern annual National Eisteddfod, revived in the 19th century,
includes awards for music, prose, drama, and art,
but the investiture of the winning poet remains its high point.

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