Jack in the pulpit preaches today

I'd say it's high time to get over this springtime soundtrack in my head, but there's one more --- this was jack in the pulpit week in the woods around here. And that brought to mind the obscure Clara Smith's obscure jack in the pulpit poem. Here's the first stanza:

Jack in the pulpit
Preaches today,
Under the green trees
Just over the way.
Squirrel and song-sparrow,
High on their perch,
Hear the sweet lily-bells
Ringing to church.
Come, hear what his reverence
Rises to say,
In his low painted pulpit
This calm Sabbath-day.
Fair is the canopy
Over him seen,
Penciled by Nature’s hand,
Black, brown, and green.
Green is his surplice,
Green are his bands;
In his queer little pulpit
The little priest stands.

There are four more stanzas and by the time she's done you just want to shake Clara and tell her to calm down --- way too much of a good thing. But every time I see a jack, this pops into my head.

I think the poem survived because it was included at one point in a volume of poems suitable to be memorized that fell into the hands of many teachers (remember when memorizing poetry --- and the Gettysburg Address --- was a significant element of a complete elementary education?).

Part of Clara's poem at least was set to music --- not to be sung in church I think; perhaps as a novelty tune for sheet music distribution or inclusion in schoolhouse and parlor songbooks. In any case, my mother sang it as she tended her wildflower gardens under the lilac, mock orange and other bushes this time of year and that's where I picked it up.

It's easy to see where Jack (arisaema triphyllum) got his nickname. The plant's spathe, looking like an old-fashioned elevated pulpit with sounding board atop it, wraps around the spadix (Jack, the preacher), which is covered by tiny flowers. Come fall, you can recognize Jack by the cluster of bright red berries he'll produce (not a good idea to eat them).

Spring or fall, this is a wildflower I always look forward to --- to the accompaniment of Clara's masterwork.

One more look below at a bluebell walk along the Winnebago River, since these will be fading soon as spring moves toward summer here in Iowa.