I will grow anywhere, even on sea cliffs. You cannot hide from me. Of old I was found close by your door, though always slighted, never invited in; a shaving elder by the door will keep the devil away, but dare to burn me – just you dare, and I’ll invite him in. I am the scourge of flies, and will also keep these from your threshold. My hollow branches are a child’s delight – to the fair ones I give the best whistles and flutes; to Thursday’s child I give up perfect pea-shooters. All children smile their quirky sideways smiles when they dare sip my complex cordial, while to their parents, my flower’s wine gives glinting eyes and the season’s sweetest kiss.
Designed and written by ourselves
The Treacherous Elder
