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 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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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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Beech tree save breeze for me

Hideaway for highwaymen

high above broken ground

stealing souls

of maiden's hearts

Soaked in rain was my way

now blue skies do the same

sunny days

- are all the same

Walk away the tunnel way

to Highgate Hill and down again

find your mates

have your share

Hidaway for you and me

I wish we were born to be

r...

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