Hello and welcome to the daily poem. I'm Heidi White and today is Monday, May 2nd. And today I'm going to

read for you a poem by self-employed writer, editor, and workshop facilitator Caroline Melor. She lives

in East Sussex in the United Kingdom and she writes about wellness, parenting, sustainable travel, environmental

issues. She writes essays, poetry, and creative nonfiction. And if you like her poetry,

you can find it at Caroline Miller Writer.com. She is a poet who posts her wonderful poetry and writing for the world to find

online. So I encourage you if you like this poem to look for her there. Today's poem is called

We Need to Teach the Children the Old Words. And this is how it goes. We need to teach the children the old words, and this is how it goes. We need to teach the children the old words,

words like brabble and grubble, Twitter lights, and clinkerbell, words which dance and trip and

slip and drip like honey off the tongue. Teach them that a hazy halo of cloud around the moon is called a moon brock,

and that swiftly moving clouds are named Kyrie's,

how a vixen's wedding is a sunny shower of rain,

and that a single sunbeam breaking through thick cloud is known as a messenger.

Teach them to know the seasons and scents of queen of the meadow and bride of the sun,

how to tell Jupiter's staff from fairy fingers and which roses bloom with the strawberry moon.

Teach them to spot pricklebacks in the toddle grass, how to recognize a smuse or

Bishop Barnaby, when to watch the sky for flittermice and yaffles, and to pay attention to

the Dumbledore and mouse ornacle as she graces the lazy laas of summer. Teach them a few of the old

Sussex words for mud, like guber and slub and stodge and pug,

so they know that the precious soil beneath their toes is anything but worthless dirt. Teach them

to be users and keepers and makers of the words which bring the land alive, the storybook, where

everything has its rightful place, including us, where the wilds are fearful and filled with

magic and people do noble things and nothing is impossible.

...