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Danu, the goddess of the mythicTuatha dé Danaan who arrived in Ireland on a misty hilltop in ships, is said to have married Bile, which translates as tree. Now there are seven chieftain trees of Ireland. Which would she choose?

Nemeton

Bee_at_beachby Bee Smith25 Oct 2013

I will tell you now how it came to be
that I, Danu –
smooth shouldered, generous hipped, with full red lips-
came to marry a tree.

And not any insignificant sapling either,
lost amidst a massive plantation. Oh no!
not one to be glanced askance.
No! mine’s a real Green Man of a tree,

one who could shake me utterly,
his roots claiming my spirit and flesh in
a shameless lock, a sensuous refrain,
a rustle and cry echoing through the wood.

Apple smelt so good. He was quite the springtime
snappy dresser. And his delicious fruit was a
bonus –so juicy and sweet – I had to eat.
I just had to have him for my husband.

Now Oak was very manly, macho beard,
a lovely crop of chest hair. He was a keeper,
durable as plank and fair as a plane.
So I just had to have him for my husband.

With Pine, I married for the children’s sake,
so sweetly garlanded with popcorn and cranberry,
festooned with twinkling lights – such a jovial, ho-ho sort of dad.
I just had to have him for my husband.

I needed to dig a well. It can be so very useful
to have a man who is handy, gentle and
astute enough to divine S-bends and pipe leaks.
So I just had to have Hazel for my husband.

Now Ash was a diversion and good breakfast conversation.
He made me laugh and gave me letters and language.
He made me a heroine.
So I just had to have him for my husband.

As for Holly, a burly sort of fellow can make
a woman feel safe – to know he would do battle
for our boundaries all just for my sake.
Well, I just had to have him for my husband.

But for eternal love from cradle to grave
who can compare to Yew? A thousand year lover,
my soul mate unbetrayed, forever green.
Inevitably, I had to have him for my husband.

I married them all and gathered them,
all my gorgeous Green Men,
and made them
a grove - – all mine.
They cleaved to me as I did to them.

I was a good wife. I loved them all-
their roots wrapped around me,
their limbs praising to the sky,
their sap rising and heart’s beat.

I was a good wife, good husband each to me.
I loved their soul’s breath on my cheek,
the fire in the end, the kindling, log, even the
charcoal embers that was our life and loving.

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