John Rickell

Rookie - 144 Points (november 1945 / York)

Brambles Showing Green


Sun beams slanting through the wood
steel sharp cold and cruel
March fighting off the Spring
to lose again as yester-year
but still he tries
his memory worse than mine!

Jack and I keep in the lea
tramp leaves and twigs
remnants of last year
green leaves once and branches.
Around trees lean and creak,
a hundred years from now
shall see the same
that's if I'm here
that's if it could be so.

Brambles showing green,
nettles threaten in the shade,
pine and birch and alder
wave their fists, defy the storm
ferns, brown, dry and waiting,
slumber in the shade.
I lose my hat and whistle Jack
who negotiates a biscuit
runs around the thicket
proudly finds the hat drops it at my feet
on the muddy path!
Who cares says Jack,
you never gave me a hat.

Watched at every move,
tits and finches cease to whistle,
we’re not here long, peace will soon return
the wood will struggle with the wind
hold back its leaves and blue bells
the clock goes back,
tomorrow will be late
but not in my wood,
time infinite as ever.

Submitted: Monday, November 04, 2013
Edited: Monday, November 04, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

My wood the base of most of my poetry an ever changing environment yet always the same community spirit persisting

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