My attempt at writing an ode to the Forest of Dean where I now live and where I spent most of my youth.
Ode to the Forest
The bosom of green I was born unto:
an army of mums, your setting suns
of golds that glimmer, of dazzling hues
soothe the soul, remove the pain,
the stress that clings from a life’s duress.
Days and time bend, soul and spirit mends by being close to you
like warmth from embers.
We bask in your glow, remember lost memories
as summer’s sun peeps between trees then goes,
seeds burst from pods and new life scatters like shards of ice.
Then you turn, you twist, as Winter’s grip
Tightens, and light drips, like blood from a wound
And darkness descends, a blanket of black
Until soon spring bounces back and
You rise and breathe again,
Like the moon.