under the willow
All is green under the willow tree
As chiff chaffs echo
Above the ferny fronds caressing
The divided trunk splays
From dry soil
Like an open hand
All age is in this tree
From ancient twisting base
To light young summers leaves
A white butterfly skims giddily beneath
Hurrying through a gloom
That presages autumn
Badger paths and fox tracks
Worn ways and the old ways
Honeysuckle stretches streamers over all
The curve of the land
Familiar to me as a lovers shoulder.
This is my place.
A scatter-my-ashes-when-I’ve-gone place.
A woodpigeon softens that thought
With her maternal sigh.
Bernadette Herbertson
Sat 31st Jul 2010 09:55
This is such a lovely poem Ann. I live close to a lovely park which has a woodland area and many species of trees scattered throughout the park. I go there very often and I look at the trees and wonder about nature. There are lots of birds there and when I'm lucky I get to observe the squirrels usually only briefly as when my dear gentle dog spys them well it's a case of who gets to the tree first.She wouldn,t harm a fly but she loves that little chase ! lol thank you for your poem I enjoyed reading it xxx