Silver's Green Sanctuary
Where the Craft meets the Shire
Here you will find anything from poems to pictures, musings, mutterings, and a witch's meanderings. My garden therapy as I call it, meets with a deep love of Tolkien story craft. This became the foundation of a dream that has found root in the rambling, magical, and often messy garden that I call my own. Join me on my journey and share in the story that each of us create with the earth around us.
The October Garden
2016
She Rambles Through Her Garden
She rambles through her garden,
whispering to the spirits of the plants
pulling a weed here and admiring the blooms there
She rambles through her garden,
smelling the herbs that heal and flowers that appeal
but just as grateful to the baneful plants inside their fence
She rambles through her garden
walking softly in mind of fairies and gnomes
absorbing the green energies and giving of herself in return
She rambles through her garden
knowing that here is the power to harm and heal
understanding that here she finds her peace as she rambles through her garden
-Silver
A Study of Fall Flutters
2016
The Little Pond
2015
“For you little gardener and lover of trees, I have only a small gift. Here is set G for Galadriel, but it may stand for garden in your tongue. In this box there is earth from my orchard, and such blessing as Galadriel has still to bestow is upon it. It will not keep you on your road, nor defend you against any peril; but if you keep it and see your home again at last, then perhaps it may reward you. Though you should find all barren and laid waste, there will be few gardens in Middle-earth that will bloom like your garden, if you sprinkle this earth there. Then you may remember Galadriel, and catch a glimpse far off of Lórien, that you have seen only in our winter. For our spring and our summer are gone by, and they will never be seen on earth again save in memory.”
Fall in the Garden
2016
Winter Wonderland
2017
All that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost:
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost
-J.R.R. Tolkien
And thjen her heart changed, or at least she understood it: and the winter passes, and the sun shone upon her.
-J.R.R. Tolkien
So fair; like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill.
-J.R.R. Tolkien
