Long ago, When grass first grew, And rivers began to bend through the lands, The great lady Iris spied a grove. She noticed how the birds danced, Joyfully in the trees. She saw how the fox loved to burrow, Near the thick bushes. She watched, as the bees quickly spread nectar for the plants. Iris fell in love with the forest. She loved it so much that she wanted to help, Wanted to keep it safe. Her hand reached down from the sky, And plucked a plain looking flower from the ground. She dabbed her bush, Into every pallete of the rainbow, And coloured each petal of the flower. |
She then scooped up some of the muddy clay, and dabbed it into the river,
She shaped and shaped and shaped,
Until finally, she had made the body of a man.
She stuck the flower into the clay statue and then planted it in the ground.
Days passed and eventually the petals reopened,
As it bloomed it revealed a face,
And the face revealed a smile,
And so was born the flower people.
Iris made lots of them, and she blessed each one with every aspect of light, she called them Sheylar,
Sheylar meant ‘gift from the divine’,
And she asked them for one favour in return for their life,
To protect the forest and keep it a safe and happy place,
And the flower people all agreed.
Days passed,
Months went by,
And soon enough years.
They Sheylar played in the forest; the Sheylar protected the forest.
One day, a group of men arrived,
And with them came trouble.
They had mighty axes,
And a want to chop down the forest,
The flower people were not happy with this,
And so one of them, the oldest, went to see the men,
He saw their great weapons of destruction,
He saw their want and greed to cut down the trees,
To clear the birds and other animals,
To kill the forest.
The Sheylar hid behind a mighty oak,
And as it peered around,
It saw the men approach a birch tree.
They raised their axes up high to begin chopping,
And so the Sheylar whispered,
And it’s words filled the air,
And as they drifted on the breeze,
They gently touched the axes,
And turned them all to glass.
Each man smashed his axe upon the birch,
Each smashed in turn, as one by one, they tried to chop down the magnificent tree.
The Sheylar laughed,
It had kept the forest safe.
One day, a group of men arrived,
And with them came trouble.
They had ways to make fire,
And a want to burn down the forest,
The flower people were not happy with this,
And so one of them, the oldest, went to see the men,
He saw their great weapons of destruction,
He saw their want and greed to burn down the trees,
To kill the birds and other animals.
The Sheylar hid behind a mighty oak,
And as it peered around,
It saw the men approach a yew tree.
They dowsed the ground and foliage with a crude liquid,
And they lit a match and set the forest on fire,
The Sheylar sang,
It sung a quiet song,
And as it sang, the clouds formed,
The rains poured down,
And the fires were put out.
No matter what they tried they could not set another fire,
The wood was damp,
The men had cold and wet hands,
The Sheylar laughed,
It had kept the forest safe once more.