Baxter’s Field: A Beggar’s Curse

A piece of parchment flew through an open window of the bus today and landed on my lap. It was entitled A Beggar’s Curse – I have tried to make a transcription.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
Gainey’s Well will lift the water table,
Peasants will harrow your dreams,
Cut ridges in your anxious brow.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
Weavers will riot in the night,
Stretch nightmares on tenterhooks,
Turn your eyes Stroud Scarlet.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
The Slad Brook will burst its banks,
Flood your conscience with remorse,
Leaching stains of turbid regret.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
Beware the Bulls Cross coach,
Jones’ goat, the two headed sheep,
Albert the Devil, Cabbage-Stump-Charlie.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
Avoid Granny Trill and Granny Wallon,
But the squire will berate you,
And Miss Flynn will bewitch you.

If you build on Baxter’s Field,
Grass will grow in your pockets,
Celandine in your bank vaults,
Weeds in your account books.

But if you don’t build on this field,
Empathy will rain upon your garden,
Goodness grow within your heart,
And generosity in your soul.