Fir Green

Veronica Aldous - Poetry and Art

P1160572.JPG

Fir Green

The woods are holding the owls deep in their clefts
Their voices hollow out the dark blue void
Eyes shut, you are speaking to me, your warm hand
Enfolding the day’s essence,a  dark chocolate voice
Resonates in my heartwood
I hear it at night narrating some oaken verse
As though a man came out of the greenwood
And offered me a  mossy seat on a fallen tree
To tell me folk stories of golden maids
And violet charms that fall at midnight
A thread of silver seeps into a bird’s call
Bidding the forest to keep its secret.

View original post

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s