Skip to main content

Poetry Fruit Garden: Goblin Market

I grew up on a diet of many delights, one of which was Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti. Living in Stroud some years ago, I felt a connection with this poem of my childhood far away, and this led me to make a film about the poem on Super8.

Now I have returned to Stroud, and at last, have a garden of my own. There is already growing a lovely cherry tree and an apple, some strawberries and the ubiquitous blackberries, and lots of herbs, and it came to me that this could become a fruit garden with a fruit fence strategically placed to screen the road at the back.

And then I heard about the Hampton Court Palace Show gardens designed for poems, and although I think these seem to be rather clumsy and literal attempts to represent poems, undaunted I thought I could set myself the task of growing all of the Goblins Delights from Rossetti's most luscious of poems.

Here is a list of all the fruits the Goblins tempt the two girls in the poem with:

Apples Russet and dun,
quinces,
Lemons
oranges,
cherries,
Melons
raspberries,
peaches,
mulberries,
cranberries,
Crab-apples,
dewberries,
Pine-apples,
blackberries,
Apricots,
strawberries; -
Pomegranates,
Dates
bullaces,
Rare pears
greengages,
Damsons
bilberries,
gooseberries,
barberries,
Figs,
Citrons,
plums
melons
grapes without one seed:
currants

There is also mention of:
mead,
lilies,
wormwood.

Some of these will present more of a challenge than others (dates???! - pineapples????!!!) but hey, lets give it a go. I already have a lemon tree and the previous owner left a rather nice grape vine in a pot so we are well on the way I reckon.

Whether I can do better than the hopefuls at Hampton Court remains to be seen - and it could take a few years to find out.

So wish me luck - and please - tell me how to grow melons!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life Returns to Notment - and my soul

It has been such a long time, we had so much cold and rain and snow this winter that I have hardly been down to the notment at all. A couple of weeks ago I did go, and collected some baby Alexanders , which went down very well with the family. They are very herbal, like fennel, aniseed or celery but stronger and with a distinct flavour. They work very well chopped up with mashed potato or in an omelette. Then yesterday I went back for a propoer look at the spring life. Many of the fragile little seedlings planted last year in their fleece-poo blankets are still alive if not exactly thriving - including a sage, some fennel cuttings, a feverfew and calamint. Sadly though, the huge ants nest has gone since the breeze blocks were sold to alocal builder who has been able to reuse them. I had been hoping to provide a new home for the ants, but failed to act in time and so now just have to wait and see if they managed to survive or not. I am fairly ignorant about the habits of ants, but...

Water, Water, Everywhere, and Not a Drop to Drink

Water, water, everywhere, and it's all a lot of poncey crap from Italy and France, beautifully packaged and carefully marketed, that wends its way into the receptacles of Londoners who use it as prop to help them make believe their city is chic like Paris when it is nothing of the sort, it is just the grubby old capital of a country that obtains its water from across the sea. The point I am trying to make, through this un-dignified rant, is that water is indeed everywhere and it all tastes the bloody same. Perrier, for instance, though I could have easily picked out Badoit, Barisart or Pellegrino, arrives on the shelves of our abundant supermarkets in sexy looking, stylish bottles that are pleasing to the human eye. There is little wrong with this, beauty has its place. The home should be filled with gorgeous things. But it's the human tongue that counts here and mine says the only dissimilar thing its buds can gauge between the continental waters and our very own mountain spri...

Snow and Honey

Monday was a day famous for Snow, but for me it was also about honey. I visited Linda who has recently started keeping bees. We processed some honey and she very kindly gave me a pot of golden sweetness at the end. I learnt about mites, and deaths, and bee dancing and pollen and nectar and propolis (the red stuff in the pot - very sticky and it stains the hands, the bees make it from tree resin), and how the bees tenderly care for the grubs and feed them bees milk, and how the worker bees come out of the growing chambers and do housekeeping first for a few days, and then nursing, and then they guard the entrance, and then they start foraging only after all that. The pics show how we scraped the honey out of the combs, avoiding letting pollen and nectar into the honey, and let it drip through a net to separate it from the wax - collecting the was crumbs for melting down and further separation from the honey that is left; propolis; and the honey pots that were filled. 20 in total, from a...