Into the woods - A poem to celebrate beauty in a time of crisis


Into the woods: art by Aimee Lister

Down into the deep woods I made my way

From the flatlands, the yellow fields,

Houses, blue sky. Steep underfoot and dry

As the path plunged down into valleys

And glades where once I’d feared to go.


Heading off to my left, I crossed the fallen tree,

Fungus and nettles growing out from its bark,

And came into a glade. Myriads of green leaves,

Colonies of wild garlic, offering potent scents

To the crisp spring air. Flowers were emerging

From little green spears into tiny constellations

At my feet. I heard a pheasant scuttle and take off

Somewhere ahead.

Rising from this emerald carpet, huge bare beech

Trees stood in ancient companionable splendour,

Guardians, reminders of how the centuries pass by.


Bending I pick some garlic leaves,

Bear leeks, ransoms, a spring tonic,

Free and fine to bring into my home.


I’ll go again to the garlic woods:

I’ll go with my little grandson one day.

He’ll skip for joy among the aged trees and tender leaves.

Mother Nature teaches us to play.



By Louder Than The Storm guest contributor Cassie Flint


#CASSIE_FLINT


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