Tag Archives: nature

Hibernation

It is cold.
Should I be bold
And go outside?
Or like a tortoise, hibernate?
I can not decide.

It is late
In the year.
A thought most drear
Does take
Hold .
Not all tortoises awake
From the cold.
I pray
For a spring day.

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Did You Hear The Owl?

“Did you hear the owl?” I said, as we sat in my living room.
(It will be over soon.
The prey caught
I thought).

“No” you replied.
Twice more the bird cried
But you heard
Not a word
He said.

The bed
Was hot
And the owl you did not see
Forgot by me.

Poems Inspired By The Great North Wood

Great North Wood, London, UK

Several of my poems have been inspired by the Great North Wood, one of the remnents of which is some 2-3 minutes walk from my home, http://www.wildlondon.org.uk/great-north-wood. I have spent many hours walking my dogs in Spa Woods, which form part of The Lawns, https://www.croydon.gov.uk/leisure/parksandopenspaces/parksatoz/the-lawns.

This afternoon I came across several volunteers from The Great North Wood/The Friends of Spa Woods engaged in conservation. A bonfire was going and invasive plants (laurel introduced in the Victorian era) was in the process of being removed to prevent it from stifling the growth of native flora.

The wonderful thing about The Lawns is that it was left to the local community and it is maintained by volunteers, who do excellent work to ensure that it remains a real oasis, which can be enjoyed by dog walkers and anyone in search of a little peace and tranquillity.

Below are examples of those poems of mine which have been influenced by my proximity to (and connection with) The Great North Wood:

The Path Through The Woods – https://newauthoronline.com/2017/04/03/k-morris-reading-his-poem-the-path-through-the-woods/
Wood In The Rain – https://rhymepoetry.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/wood-in-the-rain/
Owl – https://newauthoronline.com/2016/07/17/owl-2/
An Owl Hunting – https://newauthoronline.com/2016/03/31/an-owl-hunting/

Woodland Glade

A beautiful butterfly
Flutters by
And a gentle breeze
Russles the leaves
Of fine old trees.

Where shadows dance
Couples may see,
By some lucky chance,
The otter wild and free
That dreams
In woodland streams.

Standing on the street
With dusty feet,
They gazed
Amazed
At the museum of yesteryear,
While far and near
Stretched the asphalt drear.