Category Archives: New Forest

Moorcat Poetry #2

image

Moorcat Poetry #2

Moorcat, Moorcat, upon the moor
What need have you of window or door
Nor roof or walls, upon the Heath;
When you have the open skies to live beneath?

Advertisements

The Cows on the Heath

image

Pictures by me – G:)

image

The cows on the Heath were mooing and lowing
Then they were quiet as mice as the grass they began mowing.
And here a few words of warning:
Please don’t try to feed a cow
Forestry Laws do not ‘that’ allow
And don’t stand behind a cow as it is chewing
Or you might be splashed by a cow who’s looing.

Out on the Moor 11-10-2015

image image image

Out on the Moor 11-10-2015

Out on the moor
There is a cooling breeze
And a morning’s heat
“And they call the wind, Maria.’

Out on the moor
There is an openness of space
And a sparse hoarseness of gorse
And the odd horse
‘And they call the sun, Apollo.’

Out on the moor
There is time and tide
That waits for no man
Not even me
‘And they call the moor, Othello.’

New Forest Poetry 10-10-2015

image

New Forest Poetry 10-10-2015

The tree that fell
It wasn’t well
It lost its grip
Began to slip
And…
Sad to tell
It lay on the ground murmuring –
A sad sight
Quite profound;
Whilst all around
Were none to see
The tree
Fall
Without a sound.

New Forest Walk – Early

image image image

New Forest Poetry – Early

We head out early
To the place
Where we can roam free –
The dogs
And me
They upon legs fleet of foot
Me, on flights of fancy
As I follow at a pace
That suits feeling
Breathing
Thinking
Writing.

And, no sooner are we set upon paths
Tracks
And routes untrammelled
Do I sense the things
That create the words
To write
For to remember the experiences
In future times
When four walls encumber me
And my soul is hampered
By urbane urbanity.

Leaves fall and descend to the hoar-frost land below
Savouring their flight from tree to track
With maybe a regretful look or two back
Amongst friends and new acquaintances
They lay peacefully
And consider the changes to come.
Whilst I consider them.

And so it goes…

New Forest Saturday 26th September, 2015

image image image

The New Forest felt particularly old, today; and parts of it decidedly ancient. Still, it would most likely outlast me.
In thirty or forty years time I would probably be buried deep or burnt to a crisp; whilst the forest would just be a little older, a little less sentient.

How morbid, I thought. But, realistic, I added. These trees have been here for absolute ages; some, for centuries – and the forest as a whole unbroken since William caused it to be planted. New it was then.

I’m a Fun Guy!

image

I’m a fun guy
Would you like to meet me?
You could cook
And then you could eat me
But,
You might die
If I’m not the right guy
The right fun guy
So, perhaps it’s best
Not to lie
I might just be
The wrong fun guy.