Garden of Omnifarious Delights


Though humble be
The bumblebee,
I’d rather rise
With butterflies.

Then back to earth
In time for spring
To metamorph
And colour bring.

When winter ends
And seasons cross,
No Mister Frost
No Scrooge or Grinch
Would fail to thaw
In new Seanhenge.


I dedicate this short whimsical poem to Omnium (a blog whose title will be familiar to Flann O’Brien fans), and to all its inhabitants and visitors, human and otherwise. There is a garden there, of both earthly and cosmic delights; Seanhenge is its name. It is well tended, and accordingly rich in flora and fauna, sometimes bearing the most unusual and intrepid fruit.

It is difficult to discern where Seanhenge ends and Omnium begins, since Seanhenge is there but also here, and Omnium is everywhere! In any case, Seanhenge is blessed with the consummate host: he is witty and welcoming, just and generous, sincere and surprising, cheerful and cherished. I am lucky to have wandered into his garden and its gathering of good people. Sean will not mind, I think, if I invite you to visit and explore for yourself.


3 Responses to Garden of Omnifarious Delights

  1. Sean Jeating says:

    [… don’t know for how long my fingers have been hovering above the keyboard; and still I do know not at all what to write, except of:]

    thank you!
    Thank you very much.

    To the readers of this very post:
    I do not feel embarrassed.
    It’s wonderful – just can’t think of a more proper adjective – to get surprised by such wonderful – see? :) – compliments.
    Very probably some of you will have felt … how to say? … a bit irritated (?) by reading such an homage. Some of you might think, might have thought: ‘Ah, another two guys trying to help one another to increasing their stats.’
    Nah. :)
    Interesting a phenomenon, isn’t it? It seems we have got used to handle negative criticism easier than accolade, than words of kindness.
    Now did Stan not mention that when, once in the past millennium, irony and sarcasm were distributed I (also) happened to not stay in the last row.
    And still I would feel deeply touched by such a kind gesture?
    It’s such a good feeling.
    The peace of the night.

    And, Stan, again: Thank you so much.

  2. Claudia says:

    Oyez, oyez, oyez! Hear, hear!

  3. Stan says:

    It was a pleasure, Sean. Thank you for your gracious response, and thank you Claudia for your enthusiastic assent. I might easily have written more — about the kinds of discussions and games that take place in Seanhenge, for example; and the respect, interest and good faith shown to its visitors — but I didn’t want to put people off by going on and on! Hence the simple poem. It is unfortunate that sincerity is sometimes regarded with suspicion.

    The internet has a lot of aggressive clamouring for attention, and many of its users go to great lengths to attract visitors and promote their content, regardless of its usefulness or meaningfulness or lack thereof. This was never my aim, nor yours. We are more concerned with the quality of discussion and the pleasantness of its environment than with scoring intellectual points or increasing web traffic. Even if none of my readers or visitors took the time to look around Seanhenge, I wouldn’t regret this petit homage. And I’m sure that a few did.

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