WILD WORDS

Dandelion, oh dandelion, share your golden light,

your beautiful yellow petals always shine so bright.

In the summer, you burst with rays of beautiful complexion,

you never show any imperfection.

Once you have finished showing your spectacle of golden brooms,

you close back up, but to re–emerge very soon.

Out, again you bloom, your golden petals have disappeared,

and now a fuzzy, fluffy seed clock has appeared.

It is time for your performance,

time for you to sway and dance.

As you drift gently from side to side,

your little seedlings float off for a ride.

They float off into the sky,

and land somewhere in the distance, or nearby.

They plant themselves into the ground,

and go to sleep, nice and sound.

When they wake, they are tall,

and live their life just like yours.

Throughout your life, you have conquered:

storms with terrible winds and rains,

ice and cold and hurricanes,

the sun, which can heat you way too much,

predators ready to eat you for lunch,

and your friends nearby,

who you compete with to eat and survive.

Finally, humans are no help at all,

for we are the ones who damage it all.

Deforestation and carbon emissions,

the world we have made into a plastic prison.

The list of mistakes goes on and on,

how will we undo all this wrong?

We try to make the world a better place,

but we are the ones who made it into an unfixable case.

It’s not just dandelions humans are harming,

it is the whole world, and it is alarming.

Poor, poor dandelions, I am sorry,

we are destroying your world with every car and lorry.

With every little piece of plastic,

we are eating away at something fantastic.

Dandelion, oh dandelion, we never knew,

that the little life of yours could be so blue.

The squirrel squeaks and chatters quietly,

While the birds are flying gracefully.

Then the squirrel eats nuts and berries,

Soon after the birds find a bunch of cherries.

The squirrel bounced and hopped,

While the birds flapped and flapped.

When it rains, the squirrel hides for shelter,

While the birds fly like a helter–skelter.

The squirrel may get a berry for a chance,

Though the bird would only get a glance.

Soaking in all the worries,

Of the world’s pleas,

Its unheard suffering

That is never–ending.

I wish that there was a day,

Where the price we shall not pay,

For the world.

Basking in our shade,

Which is starting to fade,

Are our destroyers.

We adore them but still they destroy us.

The sound of rustling leaves blows gently in the wintery air,

Dogs playing chase with a ball, barking with excitement,

A tall oak tree standing proud and unwavered by possible dangers of the human eye.

Soggy wet mud squelching underfoot,

Birds tweet happily sitting in the bare branches,

An ominous buzzard soaring overhead scouring the ground for prey.

People’s voices drifting through the breeze,

Important or nonsense, it doesn’t matter to the gentle giant with arms outstretched,

Generations of life treading the same paths where he stands proudly,

Watching the landscape change before him.

A lonely fox prowls at dusk,

The rabbits have returned home to safety,

A deer cautiously leaps out of its den and takes refuge by the giant trunk.

The big friendly tree unmoved by evolution,

Strong, tough, and unbreakable,

Stands forevermore in our world.

Birds flutter through the treetops whistling their sweet lullabies,

Leaning out of the window, I listen and smell the sweet air.

On the tree, blossom grows, pink and white.

Sweet swelling with their beautiful colours,

So soft to touch, as if a piece of silk,

Magnificent blossoms will return next year like a promise.

Trees swish and sway in the day and night,

Breathing in the carbon dioxide, creating it into something new,

Every spring sprinkling our gardens with sweet soft blossom,

Every autumn showering our grass with leaves of shimmering shades of fall.

Seeing the world go by,

All it can do is stand stationary,

For that is the life of a beautiful

Blossom tree!

Upon this vast expanse of moorland

  grace,

Where gorse and heather once did

  bloom,

A tapestry of beauty takes its

  place,

A symphony woven by nature’s

  loom

How the moorland wept when its fabric

  tore,

A scar etched upon its ancient

  face,

Its harmonies shattered,

  forevermore,

A testament to man’s relentless

  chase.

The symphony of life, once so

  profound,

Now silenced, as echoes cannot be

  found,

The birds, once singing melodies

  sweet,

Have fled, their harmonies now

  incomplete.

A gnarled oak stands in shadow, gaunt

  and bare,

Its branches outstretched in a mournful

  prayer,

To weave a new tapestry, where our hopes

  are

Interlaced with the threads of the moorland we

  scarred.

Bright, brilliant leaf, scuffling along the ground,

Wailing and whispering, muffled and muted,

Thinking he is rubbish.

Being maroon and misshapen,

Acting gloomy and grim,

The other leaves smell perfect and pleasant all except for him.

All other leaves feel warm and happy, when he thinks he is not.

But what he needs to know is that he is marvellous and moist, he is blooming and juvenile,

He is perfect the way he is!

I blanket the city with cotton wool,

Silently colouring it white.

But the people rejoice! They flock to the streets,

And throw me up high, like a kite.

The children build snowmen and giggle with glee,

Though my freezing cold presence, leads animals to flee.

I dampen the people, soaking the ground,

But they stubbornly put up their hoods.

They gossip and giggle, under shelters they share,

Expertly avoiding the floods.

Rivers fill and flowers thrive,

The city remains very much alive.

I blow down on the city and howl like a wolf,

People almost lose their calm.

They weigh down their furniture, look up to the skies,

And cling to a friendly arm.

A tile clatters from a roof,

While nervous horses stamp a hoof.

The storm is brewing in eerie silence,

As stubborn umbrellas collapse.

Hats fly off heads and tied scarves untie,

Will they go home? Perhaps!

Once happy dogs howl and hide,

Finally, the people go inside.

The kettle is brewing!

Do you remember that summer?

We were younger, much younger

Peter–panning–holding–off–growing–up

yes, that summer. White dress and wellies

and taupe shorts too big for you

we waded in, ran our fingers across

the mud of the riverbank,

as across a library–shelf of ancient books

feeling the wet sand and clay beneath our fingertips

feeling our way through adolescence and

finding troughs, peaks and dips

in the surface, homes of sand martins,

darting things, they were, waltzing in the sky

and zooming into the earth.

We learnt their taxonomy: riparia riparia.

It was the summer ‘of the river’

of holding hands and of diving in.

Then it was the summer of letting go.

The path we trod is fallen in,

fallen into the water.

Our footprints in muddy sand gone

dissolved into the North Sea by now.

But I am still of the river of that summer.

I remember how to find my way back here.

I am of the river, as a sand martin,

a darting thing, riparia

riparia it sounds like a song I might sing

an aria for the riverbank, for them and for me.

I am still here singing, wherever you may be.

Nature is amazing,

With beautiful colours and creatures.

The sun shines bright, the birds sing their song,

‘Oh this is where we belong’.

The breeze makes the trees sway and swing.

Nature’s beauty shines so bright,

From morning to night,

What a wonderful sight.

Nature’s wonders, both big and small,

In awe, it captures us all.

So let’s cherish this treasure,

Now and forever.

So why do we stay inside?

And deprive ourselves of such a beautiful sky.

As the moonlit sky appeared and the ethereal stars twinkled in the sky, immense clouds of gas erupted from metallic factories.

I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, what I have done wrong. Am I not good enough for the humans?

Yet, I still have hope. Daisies are watered by sprinkles of fresh water, animals being taken care of.

There’s a feeling of fear inside of me for the animals who are trying to survive in the cruel hands of monsters.

Their eyes are being injected with oils in order to try out products that are being sold to humans.

Their nails ripped off, their bodies being thrown, their life being taken away.

The sea creatures are being fed portions of plastic: the humans find this ever so mellifluous.

I don’t know what I have done to deserve this unfair treatment. Now they want to scuttle over to another planet: Mars.

They’ve harmed my planet greatly, and now they won’t even try to heal the planet they’ve been living on for the past two hundred thousand years.

And still I care.

This is the downfall of Nature.

We slam towards the ground

Some slowly leaving the stormy clouds

Some quickly hitting the earth below

Some on windows

Some in drains

The rain has begun

Pit pat, Drip drop

The thunder cheers us on

The lightning wishes us the best of luck

The clouds yell go

And we start to fall

We aim for the stone, the earth, the dirt

Pit pat, Drip drop

I’m in the lead

The other Raindrops race behind me

The ground is near

I’m about to win this dreary race

I won’t slow down

Pit pat, Drip drop

The grass calls out to me

Why do the children run?

The flowers bloom and cheer

Why do people hurry inside?

I hit the ground with a plop

Pit pat, Drip drop

I’m here on the ground

I soak into the grass

I dance in the puddles

I say goodbye to the clouds

I’ll see them again

The rain stops

No pit pat, No drip drop

I ran though the fields,

Where dreams are told,

Where memories unfold.

I ran thought the fields

of mysteries,

where fantasies come true

And miracles happen.

And festivals happen.

And happiness is prone.

There is sunshine

And divine skylines

And endless summertime.

But what I love about this field most

Is the endless hope.

A tall figure hovering still,

Tall and young alive and true

A breeze in the air, a single chill

Pine trees, white dotted few

The moon softly reflecting light

Skating clearly as the day fades to a winter’s night

Encased in diamonds a single leaf

the beauty of nature buried beneath

Sublime and free mountains grow high

As shouts of pleasure, echoes fly

No one hidden away inside knows why

I was young, I was free

Gliding, dancing over the frozen sea

On the ice, cold and gleaming

Another girl stood beaming

Illuminated by the stars,

She shone just as bright

A new friendship began to blossom on that cold winter’s night

Auburn leaves,

Under the branches,

Taking their time, til they fall,

Until then, however,

Mild lives they live,

Not at all wanting to leave,

Lower they droop,

‘Everyone, you must go now’,

Anticipation awaits them,

Varieties about to go down,

Eagerness is a plenty,

So long, o tree.

The tree’s leaves start to dance,

As the wind around them blows,

Why they stop once you glance,

Only nature knows.

The tree sways side to side,

Due to the cause of weather,

A leaf flew off and started to glide,

As trees are stronger together.

Trees are smart – they store carbon,

It helps them with long–term growing,

Rising up strong and stubborn,

With branches and leaves showing.

When it rains and pours,

I hate it and run inside,

But if you go outdoors,

You will see the tree’s moisture it provides.

I love it when the sun is out,

I never want it to end,

But a tree starts to dry throughout,

As the sun is not always its friend.

There’s green leaves in the background

and a yellow haze

the light is so bright i can barely see your face

and the bandstand in the centre

is where we would go

if we were alone

we would dance and sing

and one day you’d be on your knee

i’d say yes and we’d kiss instantly

and for the leaves in the background

they’re picking up the pace

and moving around

the autumn breeze of space

we would laugh and smile

and walk through the woods

searching for treasure

but realise that i’m staring at you with your hood

then the sun would shine

and we’d get the yellow haze

i’d move into the light

and that’s how we would spend our days

we would look upon the river and see fish swimming about

i don’t know why i decided

to fall in love with you now

and the leaves in the background

are gathering up frost

turning different shades

and some getting lost

rolling down hills

some bigger some small

i realise that you’re the one for my soul

after all

flowers are blossoming

as well as your smile

that i love and adore

it never goes out of style

we notice a bird singing

and you replicate the tone

i’ve never been so happy

of not being alone

and for the leaves in the background

they’re back on the trees

and they’re there all year long

watching You and Me.

The evergreen tree puffs out its leaves

As the winter snowflakes fall

For in the woods, it is an emerald jewel

Amongst the frosty icicles

With pride it smiles so broadly

At the pure and heavenly snow

Its needles thrive

While the other trees wither

Its leaves rustle softly

And they whisper to each other

It stands so tall that its trunk brushes the sky

And all year long it continues to grow and flourish

When the sun shines palely, winter is coming,

When the darkness begins to extend, winter is coming,

I am restless, sick of the endless downpour,

As dawn to dusk condenses,

My desire for daylight becomes hard to ignore.

As I grow plump engulfing nuts ready for blossom season,

Odd garish things tall and wide hang sparkles and lights for no particular reason:

Is this hibernation? Is this their readying for winter?

As I watch from my drey I begin to question our practice,

Perhaps we should be making concoctions of mulled wine and ginger.

I see it all, my eyes as sharp as my riposte,

The felling of my brothers’ dwellings,

The ridiculous fat statues in dark leggings,

These beings practice happiness oblivious to our ends,

The forest now littered with stumps that once housed my friends.

How I wish our forest could be left alone,

The cold, dark winters are hard enough to survive when you’re living on your own,

I just want to feel safe in my drey away from merry boughs and plasticky displays,

So Santa I beg, please don’t come next year,

Your ho ho hos mean staying alive is even harder when it snows.

The birds are chirping in the trees

I am a tree of joy

The trees need your help please

The trees are flying in the sky

They are losing their leaves

The birds are flying through the branches

The way they go is like a flash of a shooting star

Feel the energy

Hug a tree

Treat the trees as they treat you

The tall tree was cut down

Trees give us a life to live

No trees – no life to live