Hello, said the tree.

Thank you for planting me.

I think I’m going to like it here.

I love trees, said the little boy.

And I love you.

You are a special tree.

All trees are special, said the sapling.

I will always be here

Watching over you and your children’s children.

How long can you stay here? How old will you get?

Will you live for ever and ever?

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A seed falls.

It lands, barely audible

it falls from a tree, a 50 year old tree

50 summers

50 winters

50 times around the sun.

Rain and Wind.

Its roots working their way through the soil

spreading

         growing

     anchoring

            for 50 years.

To create a seed to fall one day

to be heard.

That moment.

Unique

And I was there.

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The gust of wind is ever so slight 

But it lifts the seed on wings of air 

And it is borne upon the breeze in flight. 

Amid the gusts and flurries

The rain pours down and the seed is carried 

to soft fingers of the earth, unhurried. 

Nestling snugly in the earth 

the seed slips deeper down, 

washed by the rain into the earth. 

Later a green shoot...

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a cough as dead leaves drop

detached with soft faint sigh

last breath of lonely martyrs

murmur of breeze in the sky

gravity's heavier as we age

ancient oaks sad blue eyes

saplings thrust like a lance

a loving that knows no lies

do remember me, I'm here,

did you forget I found you?

like a lost fawn, dappled in

shadowed glades and dew

scoured every ...

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Rowdy trees roar their greens
intoxicated on the earth-star rays,
greening Hulks who flourish on radiation
giants, who greedily guzzle rainwater
sucking it up into their rooted matrix
making their rebellious cheeks thrive
defiant–

I saw those leafy mops today
thrown side to side in wild self-assertion
declaring, We are the real survivors-
you pipsqueaks have menaced us
with your axes ...

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All of life is poetry
a half-baked layered poem
my window is the picture frame
that calls my eye to roam

frozen silent evergreens
with dark serenity
they're preaching self-reliance
but hide mendacity

November leaves dead yellow-brown
swirl littered on the road
their song tells of an aging dream
that failed to unfold

a needled pine stares blackly down
unwilling to release
b...

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tears fall from the tips of leaves, 
no longer heaving but finally at peace, 
no longer a place for relief, 
no longer bending to the constant breeze, 
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers, 
no longer subject to raging fires, 
no longer a victim to defeat. 

tides no longer pulling at the heart, 
stars no longer hovering above, 
no longer tormented to be part of the world 
that casts...

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You think you can 
break my heart
without breaking 
your own?

We are one. 

Your tears 
are my tears.
My tears stream 
down your face.

Interwined energy,
we try to escape,
but it keeps pulling us back 
to this silent space.

You turn away,
nothing to say,
rue the day.

I laugh through the tears, 
because I know we will be 
bound again for years, 

lifetimes...

Our des...

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Waking to see autumn's lustre

lit on my beech

rust leaves gilt glowing

red gold bathed by

a rising sun's first grasp

of day.

Turning to see gold amber cirrus

low light the east -

beneath a darker grey purple

cloud bruise

that golden gleam of

dawning dawn.

So my sad grey purple dreams

dawn dim

their dark ghosts disconnect ...

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The evening sun scorches the shade.

The trees, in their glade, are forced to choose;

Stand tall and brave - or turn to crave

the cool safety of the dusk.

Like soldiers from another age, they are proud and tall,

Defenders of nature with their all.

Their bark tells the story, of seasons full of change.

Frost. Ice. Mud. Heat. Few, then a lot... of peoples feet.

...

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It just stood there

Happy to simply be

Sometimes a little gentle sway

Of it's skinny bark

In the breeze

Teasing it's leaves a bit

And when it was bare

It was still just ...there

Standing proud

Putting up with it all

Reminding me 

To do the same

Those determined little buds

Packed full of potential

Showing how essential

It is to live in hope

Of a new ...

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In Mariamné's time

What trees would have grown so tall

What was there beyond the garden wall?

When she walked beyond the garden gate

Did she see the river's sudden spate

And did the rustle of a summer breeze

Mask the red kite's call above those trees

And did she hear the Spring birds' calls

Above the echo of Ystwyth's falls

Did she stroll her father's ways

And let the...

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The magpies

nesting in the beech

began shouting

angry

to see a squirrel

in their tree

Attracted

like bad boys in the playground

more magpies

joined in

hopping from branch to branch

a harsh chatter

of anger

The squirrel

preferring a quiet life

left

by way of my garden

wall

Today the tree is silent

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Beautiful dreamer

take solace with me

and a soft melody.

I will soothe you,

woo you,

set your spirit free.

You are never alone 

when you love me. 

###

https://youtu.be/f_aB1NOqC3Y

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I longed to see a forest

So I crossed the seven seas

But when I finally got there

All I saw was trees

So I headed for the mountains

A range called Pyrenees

But when I got much nearer

All I saw was trees

And then somebody told me

The Amazon would please

And guess what bloody happened ?

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THE PROTECTORS

They had stood over me since my birth

Watching, Protecting

Heads bowed in respectful silence

Friends who gave so much

Yet asked for nothing

I grew up sheltered by their love

Safe in their strength

Knowing that one day

I too would stand high

And bask in the light of life

Eventually they fell

One by one

Giving more light each time

Al...

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To wake lit by that lunar light

Toiling from the depth of dreams

Misty minded from the night

So the distant land below the window seems

Illusory

To see beyond the shaded hedge

Hear again the whisper soft

As bedewed we walked, that ghostly pledge

Those lovely echoes of a distant past yet waft

Silently

To sense again her presence there

Knowing how we walked at ease

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This tree

is old

It knows its time but has grown in the ancient hedge

escaping the billhook and the thresher blade

standing 'gainst the farmer's pledge

that every stem should be neatly laid

This tree

is wise

It is as large as it needs to be and no more

its spread has grown to contain all of its leaves

and each year it grows to store

just as many leav...

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I’m ordinary and that’s ok

Extraordinary is made of

A million ordinaries anyway

I can feel Magnolia

Reflecting sheen 

From her glossy dark leaves

It’s early afternoon

Rays warm my left shoulder

My car window lets just enough in 

The faint rattle in my back seat

Plays a bridge

To the melody of my AC

The turns of my car, so familiar

The rout...

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Before I go

Let me drink this rich wine

Let me sing my delight

This gold red dawn has promise:

vibrant with the cold sun

vanishing valley mists

leave damp spider web to shimmer

mistdrops on the long reeds

and ungathered lawn leaves

damply shining

against the muted green of wet grass.

This amber morning has perfection:

wonderfully wooded leaf tints

golden...

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He watched the leaves float

in the pond

windmoving on the surface

drop-pitted by rain,

leaves, orange-brown against the black depths

He watched the leaves stick

to the patio

wetgluing to the slate

slickened by the storm,

leaves, orange-brown against the black stone

He watched the leaves move

on the trees

wildwaving off the branches

leafstripped by t...

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5th September 2018

Today

on the drive home

the transcendent wonder

of the clear ice blue rimmed with golden pink

and the blackness of trees

horizon silhouettes

and bats

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Have you ever communed with a tree?

The essence of all

Mother earths rich gift

Used your eyes, studied her bark, roots, canopy.

Noticed her position in the forest family

A watcher of the woods or an infant in the glade

Full sun or partial shade

 Colour, shape, size, branches, leaves can all be studied

But have you ever looked deeper.

Looked beyond, felt her fears, dreams...

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Sycamore leaves dance

In only the lightest breeze

They never turn askance

Like leaves on other trees

Sycamore leaves flair

Within their perfect ballet

In just the lightest air

Blowing up the valley

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version without the Welsh folklore

Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls all walkers home

but we pass u...

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Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls the dryads home

but we pass unseen by woodland folk

'til tylwyth teg w...

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As an evening bat dips and feeds

Lost light dims down the summer night

To deep dusk blue as the bright sun cedes

To soft moon above beech tree height

In the gentle night's warm azure sky

The beech trees' majesty holds sway

Their silhouettes hide the lone owl cry

Black shapes caressed by owlish grey

These trees have lived so many ages

Their trunks have known the...

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Dead wood, no good.

Get rid of the dead 

wood that won’t burn 

like wet yew branches.

People are dead wood,

like soul callouses.

They cling to you,

bring only judgement.

Spouting forth sin,

or their own piss;

its all the same

when you don’t drink it.

They call you wrong,

say you are useless, 

no use for burning.

I smack the dead wood

out of my life,

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Add them up and there must be 
one hundred reasons to plant a tree: 

The buds of May inlaid with dew.           1 
The verdure of the summer leaves.       2 
Winter twigs -a filigree                           3 
against the sky’s gunmetal hue. 
Refreshing shade when days are hot,   4  
and autumn colours -red and gold.        5 
Rot down leaves to make leafmould      6 
and mulch it rou...

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The trees are flesh made.

 Gauntly etched to form gangrenous limbs,

Skeletal fingers lacing outward

For the heavens.

Nails,

A multiplicity of fungal greens

That curl and sway about the breeze.

The trees are flesh made,

Blood racing within barcomulch veins

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Aspen grove
Separate trunks
Thrust skyward
Shaking golden leaves
Whispering tambourines
I cannot see the forest
For this tree

Separate bodies
Milling about
Shaking hands
Whispering gossip
I no longer see the selves
For this humanity

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Into the Wilderness

Into the wilderness we went. Edhweirft and Hwyrflung swirled above us, blowing and bustling through the treetops. Watching. Threatening. But maintaining a safe distance as the trees protected us

Scrunch

Crack

Squelch

Scrunch

Crack 

Squelch

... we went, as the gloam drew in. Druuuuuin!! Closer. Druuuuuuuuiiiiinnnn!!!!! Closer. It hugs, this gloa...

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iPod plugged, young Victor’s 
muttered not a word since my divorce. 
Grace is up front. She carps, 
“Dad, why d’you drive this Chelsea Tractor?” 
Thinks she’s going to save the world of course 
since reading a bit of ecology for GCSE. 
I hang a left and bark, 
“You think I never cared? You’ll see!” 

My big Land Cruiser cruises 
country lanes through blizzards of thistle-down. 
The car-...

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Add them up and there must be 
one hundred reasons to plant a tree: 

The buds of May inlaid with dew.           1 
The verdure of the summer leaves.       2 
Winter twigs -a filigree                           3 
against the sky’s gunmetal hue. 
Refreshing shade when days are hot,   4  
and autumn colours -red and gold.        5 
Rot down leaves to make leafmould      6 
and mulch it rou...

Read and leave comments (6)

A twisted oak coiled round its self the perfect home for a mouse.

He climbed up a twisted branch and made his peace there, he built a nest of twine in the hollow center.

twine woven in brade, ants climbing up in parade. the army came to a hault and flead, they

feared for their lives and would rarther not be dead.

the stars a gemstone, the moon an ivory marble in a get jar.

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Oh, England,

you green and pleasant land,

your beauty never ceases to instil

a calmness in my hands.

A sense of peace; contentment

within my wandering mind,

a fulfilling feast for longing eyes

that seem always looking behind.

The golden greens of your pastures

covering long and rolling hills,

the succulent scent of your flowers

tickling senses to smile at...

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Swaying flowers,

passing hours,

birds in evergreens

happy smiles,

worth your whiles

and sappy little trees

muddy faces,

fraying laces,

and a gentle summer breeze

swaying flowers,

passing hours,

making memories

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WOODLAND WONDER

Gently caressed by the breath of the breeze,
branches sway atop tall lofty trees.
Restless leaves, to gnarled fingers, cling
wondering what freshness the new day will bring.

Hopping about on long leafy arms,
fluttering feathers displaying delicate charms.
Beautiful songbirds sing out their sweet melodies
in the grand performance of natures sweet harmony.

Bushy tailed...

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Stronger in numbers;

the leaves a deaf audience

clapping spring's last bow.

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Springtime trees are newly born,

Their buds soon bursting through;

They wake at nature's New Year morn

To bid the Old adieu.

Summer trees are tall and green

Like children growing with love;

Responding to a force unseen

They praise the skies above.

Autumn trees are red and gold:

In majesty they stand;

And wear their colours - bright and bold

To decorate th...

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I never feel amiss, alone or as a stranger

On days when wandering amongst the trees,

When standing on the hilltop overlooking land of bountiful existence

Or looking at the life’s reflections in blue waters of the sea.

I never know rage, hate or urge of violence

At twilight times when rolling in the silky grass,

When sitting on the tree log by the brook watching appearance of...

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I'm in love.  

A soft breeze rustles the leaves on the trees just outside my window.  All is silent save the ocean roaring in the distance at a rhythm too lovely for words.  And the wooden clock in the corner holds his pace, savoring this time of night when his tick tick tick is finally heard.  It's dark now, all around, except some photos sliding in and out on my computer screen.  

I feel p...

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Apple, Plum, Orange, Lemon, Lime
All give us their sweet Fruits
Alder, Birch, Hawthorn and Sycamore
Spread from solid roots
 
Elder, Fern, Gingko, Hazel
Sweet Gum, Hornbeam, Fig
Bald and False Cypress, Beech
Grow their fearless twigs

There's Holly, Mountain, Ash and Pine
Poplar, Spruce and Yew
Elm, Eucalyptus, Cycad, Conifer
Walnut.  Monkey Puzzle too

Japanese Snowbell, Shellback ...

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Winterfylleth (October)

We die! We die!

scream the old men

of the trees,

as their grip slips

from skeletal fingers

holding them aloft.

They fall to earth

in a blaze of golden glory,

coming to rest

at the feet of

great oaks, sycamores,

birch and elms.

Rustling in their cardigans

of orange and amber

like dry skin

in...

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Unfamiliar livery

Adorns familiar trains

Myriad trees, multi-shaped

Silent window frames

Station signs unreadable

A metal phonetic blur

Speeding on through Somewhereshire

On a train to who knows where

TK Maxx and Staples

Retail worship shrines

Ears burst in tunnels

As beneath the soil we dive

Conservatories and patios

Buzzing power lines

Tearing on th...

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The hand reached into the pocket and pulled out lint. Expecting the worst, the lint was a better gift than anticipated. A cop asked me if there are any sharp objects she should know about, I say, "no", knowing that I have dirty tricks up my sleeve. I am arrested. It could always have been worse. So could I. But here I am. Jail Cell. Alone. No friends close. No bail. Alone. Surrounded by humans ...

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Springtime trees are newly born,

Their buds soon bursting through;

They wake at Nature's New Year morn

To bid the old adieu.

Summer trees are tall and green

And fill our hearts with love;

Responding to a force unseen

They praise the skies above.

Autumn trees are red and gold,

In majesty they stand,

And wear their colours bright and bold

To...

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   Into the riot of the spring

sirens are calling my soul

what the hell is wrong with me?

I feel like I'm a thousand years old

But I've just been a boy

who started a million fires

went down on his knees and then prayed

to catch another glimpse of your face

That day you were wearing a skirt

the day you made my knees shake

all that distant time

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