Treading the fields with his hazel twig

Showing farmers exactly where to dig

Parched crops wilting as far as eyes can see

Water hidden, over there, by the old yew tree

The water diviner struck liquid gold once again

A well sunk, the crops lifeblood soon to regain

Year after year, the farmer’s gratitude enough

Brian the village legend always did his stuff

 

Is water divining passed on through generations?

There is one other, dowsing myriads of applications

Brian is his Uncle and yet his own path taken

Dowsing energy within the earth to awaken

Another time, another place, he explored his capability

His best-selling book on dowsing enhanced his credibility

Having read his words, Uncle Brian nodded sagely

This wise man’s approval mattered to him greatly

 

Two men, both of the Earth, doing their divining thing

Hazel twig, rods or pendulum in their hands swing

Two generations united in a common purpose, a goal

Helping others selflessly, find water, go dig a hole

 

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