SILENT TREE

THE JOY OF SCAMPER

Suddenly startling, yet continuous

For you with the joy of scamper,

You skitter through underbrush

Damp with February.

To me you are lift in a lick of light

Travelling the trunk of an oak,

A denser shadow, furred furrow.

Tree knows your transient tickle,

Stays focused beyond your claw clicks

On her slow hidden

Fostering of foliage,

The suckling of Spring.

TREE GONE SOLO

Here's a poem for all you lovely readers inspired by a recent walk around my local Wickersley Wood on the outskirts of Rotherham. There's a particular tree there that grows apart from the main body of woodland. Readers of my poems and stories will understand how deeply my imagination's affected by the natural world around me. Here's another fragment for you of my lifelong lovesong to the beautiful landscapes of my native Yorkshire.