Tag Archives: #Trees

The leave thieves

“Thieves have stolen my leaves!”

exclaimed the tree.

“Every year, at this time,

the leave thieves are committing such crimes

as make me shudder to the core,

do they think I can just make more?”

a tree with no leaves

I’ve been through the dessert like a tree with no leaves,

Not that that makes much sense sense.

or any;

but I can only work with

what is in my head…

and the things that inspire me.

.

At this time of the year,

the trees fall off of their leaves,

which leaves them somewhat barren,

naked as the day they were born.

Don’t scorn my talents,

for my creativity

it hangs in the balance,

and who knows

where the leaves travel to

when the wind blows?

When the trees fall down

When the leaves

fall from the trees

the trees remain;

but, what if

the trees fell down

and the leaves remained?

What if?

Leaves without trees

Leaves without trees,

and trees without leaves;

the Autumn and the Wind

are such seasonal thieves.

.

Gone are the thick coats of summer,

and barely they stand

or they fall;

leaves without trees,

cling to their memories,

and trees without leaves

wait the call.

The breeze in the trees

The breeze in the trees,

accompanied by a chill

that was liable to freeze,

and stimulating rain showers,

made my heart go all a-flutter.

‘Pitter-patter!’ falls the rain.

‘Brrrr!’ goes my soul.

Whilst the wind whistles a

wailing, and a wassailing;

whilst whispering under it all,

‘Well, what do you think of all this, Wusses?’

Leave the Leaves

Leave the Leaves

Leave the leaves

upon the trees,

and leave the trees alone.

Are you listening West Wind?

It isn’t much I ask,

not a difficult task,

to leave the leaves upon the trees

and leave the trees alone.

Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.

Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.

See here for the photograph that inspired the words – G:)

It’s about the trees,

or the sheep,

or the sky.

Swaying in the breeze;

chewing the Winter feed;

or hanging ominously above us –

you know which is to which.

All together

in one picture

they sit side by side,

juxtapositioned

by Nature.

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.

In the woods today 27-06-2015

image image

Somewhere, a screen-door slams
A car horn is punched in irritation;
A baby cries for milk;
and the city mill keeps on turning;

But, I am here
Where a twig cracks underfoot
Birds are heard
And space there is to think the word.

I shuffle through leaves
And breathe the air
Releasing the concerns
Renewing the care

One soul in a forest
Alone for a while
In this underpopulated wood
In this overpopulated world.