Ivy weaves glossy leaves
O’er potting shed knots
And rusty locks.
Lingering on gusty
Limbs and whispering
Wise rings.
The great ancient
Sings.
Springs is here, but winter winds bit into my dry lips and reminded me today to protect myself from the elements and keep nourished and warm. We enjoyed exploring the wild woodland and listening to their songs.
In the company of trees
We breathe
Feeling relieved.
As leaves fall
They kiss our tears
And listen to our
Fears,
Bathing us
In a spiced
Aromatic mist.
Layers of leaves,
Maturing over
Many years
Of stormy winds,
Shaking trees.
Magnificent
Colours,
Russet,
Mottled olive;
Fatefully fluttering,
Flaking and fainting;
Mingling,
Tingling
With frost;
Splattered
With raindrops,
Rhythmically
Singing
A lullaby
For creatures
Snuggling
In the moss.
Winter weaves
Dreams of
Summer’s lush
Leaves;
Autumn’s sanguine
Song,
Breathing meanly
Cooling
The land.
Winter weaves
Willows’ writhe;
Hazels’ howl;
Vixens’ prowl;
Squirrels squeal;
Hawks scream.
Deer dream.
Winter weaves
A breaching
River race:
Herons’ watch,
Gracefully.
Winter weaves
Barren branches
Reaching;
Cerulean skies
Fleeting.
Dreaming.
Weaving.
Walk through magical
Woody glades towards
Your imaginary place.
Under bare feet,
Carpets of wild herbs
Warm, soothe.
Fingers reach out
Touching fresh
Young leaves,
Caressing delicate silk.
Rest by ancient trees
Creaking reassuringly.
Your mind drifts
With bluebell
Intoxication;
Miles away,
Across the wide
Sea of imagination.
North East wind
Ripples waters,
Wakes sleepy voles.
Magical tales unfold
Unfurling leaves in
Early spring breeze
Saplings stretch their limbs
With glee.
Crumpled withered memory
Frosted crackled tones.
Scented breeze envelops
Her veins.
She falls falls
Sunlight soothes, energises
Stretch twigs, branches
Yawn breathe ‘spring’.
Treacle soft bud
Bursts like a sticky crysalis
Releasing its young.
Lavender Moon: Artist, Poet and Lover of Nature 
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