• Nige Wood

Poems Session II

POEM Wayne Old trees I can see very clear, Listening to different birds singing and nesting down the years. I can smell flowers sat under this old tree. I am just a person, not a bumble bee, feeling a breeze in the air! But just sat here I don’t care. DUSK Len Kids running, crunching the paths. Animals shrieking and feeding from earth. Flowers opening. Garlic in your nose. Garlic on your fingers. Garlic in your mouth. Garlic in your pockets. The dusk is damp. The dusk is safe. The dusk is strange. The dusk is friendly. I close my eyes and imagine drinking hot chocolate in Noah’s Ark. I close my eyes and pretend I’m an emperor butterfly. POEM Adele Fowles Going through the doorway into the secret garden there

there is the pond under the canopy of twisted branches. All around and all above are the tweets and woos and whistles and songs and

crunches and snaps below. Earth and wind and pond richness freshness life feeling this This air breezes breath This earth stirring mud Being

only in this moment THAT HEART BEATING BIRD POEM Brian Clewloe I see the pretty flowers beneath the trees and smell the vegetables and hear the birds and ducks and touch the trees growing up and hear people playing guitars on the grass and singing as well, feeling happy to be seeing nature and smelling the fresh air in the park and taking pictures of the flowers.

SUNDAY EVENING Paul Very low skinny trees and traffic The sky and birds jumping Flowers and a dog barking Ferns and fresh air Twigs crunching underfoot Acorns and the smell of wood Birds whistling to each other Soil on my boots and a gentle breeze Leaves and branches The sight of a fox trotting along Women with binoculars looking relaxed And Rae with camera taking snaps POEM Mable I can see blue skies, tall trees almost touching each other and flowers, acorns on the ground and a log decaying. I can hear traffic and footsteps on the ground, birds whistling to each other. Fresh air and the scent of wood. Enjoying what I am seeing I do not see a stick by my foot and nearly lose my balance. Feeling jolly and awake, this takes me back to when I was 6 years old. I can see my young self playing with no care in the world – a pure feeling of joy. ORFORD PARK Carl Peploe I wandered in Orford Park one bright cloudy day. It brought back many memories of when I lost my way. Back in 1980 under the spell of an evil king I used to scream blue murder when I looked into my ring. Serpents and things flew in the sky as the sun did set. All the old men shrieked, “Shut up you noisy get!” It may as well have been 1409 when souls were on fire on a giant bonfire that glowed beneath the pyre. Ashes blew about in the morning wind – just smell the ashes from the souls that have been binned. IN PARRS WOOD Bernadette O’Hanrahan Blossoms swaying and new leaves growing The cracking of twigs and pigeons cooing Damp earth and the smell of pine trees Bouncy pine needles and cool air on my hand Soft earth underfoot and the warmth of a smile Rhythm of tyres on speed bumps and dogs barking The smell of a new wooden fence and dried May blossom Branches waving and fluffy clouds Well-tended herb garden and layers of green leaves Birds talking and distant fireworks Damp earth again as I walk on and more pine trees Togetherness and light fading Insects zigzagging and a crow flying The whoosh of car engines and a train Scent of wildflowers and garlic bushes Happy and relaxed I remain

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