TOPIC: Wild Ginseng Poem - Wrote by Billy

GINSENG FEVER - Lord I got it bad, its a rambling of thoughts running all through my head, Some confess it, others they deny, but I must come clean so please hear my cry...........

I try to block it with thoughts from my head of me going fishing and catching crappie instead. I try to hide it with all my nice bucks, or that big ole gobbler and just how he struts, but I can not escape it, no matter the try, and here they are in front of my eyes......

! There big, there bright, & yes they are Red !
! A cluster of berries near big as my head !
! 4 Big Forks & Fat fluffy leaves !
! I can not help its got a hold on me !

! So forget the sleep !
! Forget them Zee`s !
! Because I can hear them !
! There calling to me !

~~ Billy ~~ OH ~~ Billy ~~

Look Just up above, by the old stone rock, near that patch that you love, I've been hiding been dormant you see, but this is the year that you can pick me.

While im still thinking, I begin to hear more, So I will listing, just like before.

Remember Creech Holler where you found that Patch, but I was still little and you let me nap, just a reminder, so that you can come see, that where all adults now, come if you please......

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh I cant take it, so I jump from my bed, I wipe the sweat, from the brow of my head, as my heart rate slows down, and I realize, that was a vision, come to me in the night.....

So I am happy, yes I am pleased, to confess my addiction, to others like me.

I am addicted and there's just one fix, a big green holler and a nice fall trip, So be prepared, be ready to go, as im on my 4 wheeler headed to my Honey Hole

Ginseng Addict........
Wrote by Billy Taylor........

Oh. Billy Boy you got it bad!

I called the doctor and this is what he said,
Ain't no cure right now for what's in your head!

Ha Ha rootman wrote:

Oh. Billy Boy you got it bad!

I called the doctor and this is what he said,
Ain't no cure right now for what's in your head!

Bill you have to much time on your hands.
Your poem sounds real professional , even has those sentenses that require a double take . You need to add a peom section to your website. Keep up the writing.

Guy

Very nice Billy!

Yep Billy I too love poetry and have a knack. Here is some of my fine writing ability below:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I like seng hunting
How bout you

I know my writing is profound. lol
Latt

In all seriousness, I think we all feel the same about being in the woods searching for seng.

I posted this once before but Billy's poem reminded me of being in the woods.

A well known fella in the world of ginseng wrote this somewhat recently and emailed it to me a couple of years ago. It really hits home on how I feel when I am in the ZONE when hunting ginseng. I hope he claims this someday as I think it is an excellent piece of writing. He thinks some may find it a bit odd, but I think it is right on the money.
Latt



Why I Hunt Ginseng


One of my greatest joys is being in some strange forest, miles from anywhere, on a mountainside surrounded by big trees in October.

I walk for miles, looking, sniffing, gazing without focusing. I stumble, sweat, swat a mosquito and curse my aching legs and big feet.

Finally, I become one with the forest and it becomes one with me. I see things that human beings cannot see and I realize all at once that I am no longer a human being. I watch a mouse scratch his ear 100 yards away, I see a bee visit a flower 200 yards away, I smell the dew on a distant leaf and the creek speaks to me from far below. The doe walks by unconcerned, she cannot see me anymore.

The pain goes away, the sweating stops, my feet become light and find the sure steps without effort because I am no longer walking. I am floating. The ginseng has spotted me, long before I presume to find it. If I am worthy, it will remove its camouflage and let me dig. If I dig carefully, and with respect, it will leap from the earth with no real effort. The neighboring plants will now show themselves.

I eat the white part of the stalk, it tastes so sweet!!!! I put the root in my bag after careful examination and move on. I have become a tiger, but it is getting dark and my paws soon become feet again. Big, clumsy, sore feet tell me it is time to leave. The woods will have no more of me today.

Billy-- nice composition, the poetry works very well!

Latt- not so much.... LOL

However that composition, the prose one that Latt posted... pretty darn good. Wish I had written that!

Fellas, lol
I got one. Took me all of three minutes to write it!

---

Riddle me this
Riddle me that
Cold, long Winters try and make me fat

Spring is soon comin
My heart starts a thumpin
When I see my green beauties
From the earth they be jumpin

Run off the deer
Run off the mice
Checking Seng once a day
And sometimes twice

Visions of red berries, big roots
Tall plants and large bills
Pursuing woodland dreams
Fingers crossed in the hills


Hillhopper

Really good poem Billy! You definitely have it bad. I somewhat cured mine last Sunday by planting nearly a half pound of seeds.


I rounded a bend in the ridge to a sight of 3 and 4 prongs as far as the eye could see,

as I gasped for breath, all I could think of was now where in the heck will I pee.

I whipped out a tool, no not the one with which I dig

and couldn't wait to get done to start the rewarding gig.

I was so excited that it is understandable that I did not see,

that I leaked more down my' pants than on the Maple tree.


Frank