Our creative campaigning pages hold an array of beautiful poems, art and other work to inspire and fuel the mind and soul. Trees and woods arouse such powerful emotions in many people. We would like to share one of these lovely achievements with you:
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A grand old giant…
The gnarled old oak tree stands alone,
Its former companions long since gone.
For generations it has been here,
Through times of joy and times of fear.
Countless birds chose its sanctuary for a nest
And many a weary traveller stopped to rest.
Beneath its branches children played
And spiritual souls knelt and prayed.
Families passed by whilst out for a walk,
Friends leant against its trunk to talk,
Lovers sheltered from the rain
And laid upon this peaceful spot time and time again.
Yet now that the oak is past its prime,
How many people spare the time
To give it more than just a passing glance
And not leave its future to mere chance?
by Annabelle Tipper
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Find out more about our latest campaign and petition to save ancient trees in Wales.
Trees are soul food to me also. The poem is beautiful. Thank you Annabelle. May I offer one of mine in return?
World Tree
Kiss me with liquid gold, in my green magnificence
For I am the dappled pillar that holds the fluttering roof aloft
Run sunlight fingers along my green silken limbs,
That have held the strength of thousands for these many years
A green monarch to hold sway in the land of shade and brilliance
A tower to hold the ceiling of sweet transience
A rule that will span three hundred years
Three hundred turnings of the wheel that carries the world through time
Naked and unclothed I stand in the winter storms
Stone may yield to frost in Earth’s bone cracking cold
Snow has fallen these winters I have known and weighed heavy
And bitter rain in the teeth of the Northeast wind
Three hundred times I have set my flags to the breeze
And with deep fingers I have drunk the precious Earth
The story of the land is rich within me
Now sunlight of the new wheel makes shadows skitter in the forest
I stand on the hill above the dry valley scourged by summer sun
The pennants of last year are turned to dust as in silent heat they parch
Beneath my spreading arms you will rest your weary feet
Beneath you I drink, as you cannot for dark Earth gives me succour
I have seen you take your harvest home, your toil well rewarded
I stand in silent witness to you and the shortening days
The air and Earth, grow cold and the soil refreshed by autumn rain
Wind takes my withered standards down; my fingers touch the clouded sky
And now the wheel turns again, and I will suffer the cold
Yet I know I will stand many years to come
Your lives are short but we are kin you and I
My mother is yours we sprang form the same womb
Steve Bewers
Wow Steve, how very beautiful – thank you for sharing. Nature enriches my life and soul everyday – without it we are nothing.