In the presence of trees

It has been a wet, autumnal day. I set off this morning with my dogs through a local woodland. It was dark and dripping raindrops which splattered on the leaf mold and moss filled floor. I could see beauty in tiny pools of water collected in large leaves which reflected the tree canopy and the charcoal sky: the woodland creaked and spoke to me of the year so far. The ancient trees, bark toughened, branches gnarled, split and hanging low over the path. The people I met were enjoying their rainy walks too, we were all out there enjoying the elements, exploring our day.

Later this afternoon, I left my husband decorating and headed down the garden to my Studio. I knew I would paint one of the old trees I’d seen and love in all weathers. I’m not sure if it’s finished yet. Tomorrow I will see my watercolour in the morning light! The watercolour sketch on the right I did a while ago. Another oak tree I see regularly and enjoy its presence.

Advertisement

White pillows

White pillows

Float into hollows, nooks

And burrows.

Aspen and willow,

Stark, dark: sinister

Whispering sharp wind

Billows.

Lichen hillocks.

Holly and blackthorns

Creak under laden leaves

Dripping icy nature’s tea.

Flirty flurries settle on warm cheeks

And tiny beaks.

Woodland Wildlife seeks solace

From fizzing blizzards.

Rambling in the Fairy wood

​

In the Fairy Wood a cool wind sings

Songs of summer past: Larks and cherry blossoms

Rambling roses for fairy posies.

Speckled yellow, ruby and rust leaves swirl,

Crunching under toes.

Dappled light, warm and bright Iilluminates

 faces of forest mythological creatures,

A shadow show emerging; tree nymphs, Boris the troll

And frolocking fairies.

Brooding skies like galloping waves, 

Tallow mallow ggiant’s fists!

Twisters suck up golden mists.

Dreaming of Bluebells

I dream about being in a bluebell woodland,

Morning’s dampness on my hands.

I find a torn seam in elemental’s veil;

Ask to enter the precious trail.

​

​
​
Bare toes tickling on grassy moss, 

Nose wrinkling as plumes of bluebells waft;

Lost in a deep purple blue lake,

​
Looking at the shapes the old oak makes,

Their wizened branches seeking light,

Orange tip butterflies flee with all their might!

​
Woodland’s serenade fades gently like a breeze;

I take a sip of Titania’s tea,

Finding myself mixing a pool of morning dew

With soothing dainty hues from the bluebell wood

on my watercolour palette ready for a new painting to emerge.

Serene Snowdrop

​

Serene Snowdrop,

Small heart translucent face,

Peeping shyly through downy lace.

Awakened by a sour biting  breeze,

Which makes her cower, she

Curls up, sheltering under boughs

Of mighty beech trees.

Suddenly a shower of frosty crystals

Adorn the mysterious, tearful princess,

Crowning her with a spectacular tiara

As the dryad minstrels play their lyres.

Tree festival

Through wild woods,

Parting shimmering drapes,

Greeted by a fanning of tiny hands

Seated next to dryads wrapped in cosy ruby capes.

Swirling dervlas swish folksy skirts,

Weaving dreamily through silver birches.

Crystals wink as the fairy choir sings in the wings,

Waiting for woodland girl to emerge, her gown tinged with whispers

of pearly tears.

Trailing across silvery skies, a carriage pulled by white doves glides…

The audience sighs!

Queen of the forest has arrived!

The Writing Garden ~ Issue Nine

https://thewritinggarden.wordpress.com/2016/05/17/the-writing-garden-issue-nine/

A little late folks but I’d like to introduce you to Suzy Hazelwood’s wonderful Poetry zine called The Writing Garden. She selected my poem ‘Ivy Weaves’ for her May edition. My poem is 10th on the list, however there are lovely poems to read by talented poets. Enjoy! And many thanks to Suzy for choosing to publish my poem.

I must get on and make Sound clouds! 🙂

Frosty seeds and winter trees

This Solar print was inspired by my moonlit frosty dog walks. The seedheads were encrusted with ‘fairy dust’ reaching out to the moon.

This solar print was inspired by my photos of trees in winter, taken In what I call the ‘Fairy wood’; a beautiful, quiet, well planted woodland where we often walk. Every day there is something new to see. The Green Woodpecker has been a recent visitor. My dogs love to chase squirrels and jump over the piles of logs, the woodland is a natural Green Gym.

Colours of autumn warm our hearts

Autumn’s rosy leaves

Warm our hearts as

We wander along the

Sheltered golden path

Of birch, ash and larch,

Weaving magical tales to

Tell by the glowing hearth.

Happy National Poetry Day!

I love to write poetry, however there’s nothing more perfect to do on an autumnal evening than sitting in my fireside chair with a cup of tea or a glass of Damson gin reading from a favourite poet in one of my lovely old poetry books.

Today we’re celebrating everything to do with poetry on National Poetry Day. Enjoy reading a poem today. 🙂  Who are your favourite poets?