Aug 2014
Inside the wilderness of the deep dark Landraw wood forest,
Its bread of heaven.
Trees as if I'm in the Amazon,
Firs covering thy right shenanigans,
Trees branched out separately given me a hidden view inside and out.
Their conifers begin thirty feet high,
Given an all ground hidden breathless beauty view with all shadow of a doubt.
Enchanted forest a wood pecker gives off an intermittent peck of the wood,
Slowly as music to my ears one bird whistles conveys the other birds to join in like whistle in the wind.
A loud motor travels up the dirt written track,
I duck like I'm on the run,
Privacy is my number one with solitude to write this one.
I can see bits of the huge impressive opposite valley through the labyrinth of the trees.
To my left it is much clearer but to my centre right it becomes all fudge hidden from distant trees.
Little gaps of not knowing where you are,
This is where the squirrels start to come down to play and nut.
That eerie silence now,
no wind with every thing standing still just as I had found it in principal.
The echo tweet is down to one,
Its like a waiting for darkness falls like he's the last bird standing keeping a safe eye on it all.
If heaven laid an altar my God then this is it!
Fern furnished with a ready made block of firewood,
Broken down trees ready for chopping wood,
That wood pecker starts again on a slant wonder of its peck,
The mossy dry ground provides comfort but only in season,
The oldest bark laid to rest with a cushion of moss provides a shelf sound for a trumpet
Scattered bits of holly and the ivy,
Small young trees protecting its arrival in a back drop,
Only the wood can show off its colours of unity.
I hear chit chat someone is coming!
In all sudden I'm on the run again...
In this wooden area of land I can lay on my front and back,
This really is a big relax would be spot,
With all its mother nature Landraw it has the lot!
I've just seen the smallest bird that I have ever seen,
It shows himself to me perched upon a branch.
I think he's telling me to leave with a constant nagging bad whistle.
I can see the head of a runner running by,
There's no way he's spotting me or so he should,
Free here in Landraw wood.
O'Reily@17072014.
Its bread of heaven.
Trees as if I'm in the Amazon,
Firs covering thy right shenanigans,
Trees branched out separately given me a hidden view inside and out.
Their conifers begin thirty feet high,
Given an all ground hidden breathless beauty view with all shadow of a doubt.
Enchanted forest a wood pecker gives off an intermittent peck of the wood,
Slowly as music to my ears one bird whistles conveys the other birds to join in like whistle in the wind.
A loud motor travels up the dirt written track,
I duck like I'm on the run,
Privacy is my number one with solitude to write this one.
I can see bits of the huge impressive opposite valley through the labyrinth of the trees.
To my left it is much clearer but to my centre right it becomes all fudge hidden from distant trees.
Little gaps of not knowing where you are,
This is where the squirrels start to come down to play and nut.
That eerie silence now,
no wind with every thing standing still just as I had found it in principal.
The echo tweet is down to one,
Its like a waiting for darkness falls like he's the last bird standing keeping a safe eye on it all.
If heaven laid an altar my God then this is it!
Fern furnished with a ready made block of firewood,
Broken down trees ready for chopping wood,
That wood pecker starts again on a slant wonder of its peck,
The mossy dry ground provides comfort but only in season,
The oldest bark laid to rest with a cushion of moss provides a shelf sound for a trumpet
Scattered bits of holly and the ivy,
Small young trees protecting its arrival in a back drop,
Only the wood can show off its colours of unity.
I hear chit chat someone is coming!
In all sudden I'm on the run again...
In this wooden area of land I can lay on my front and back,
This really is a big relax would be spot,
With all its mother nature Landraw it has the lot!
I've just seen the smallest bird that I have ever seen,
It shows himself to me perched upon a branch.
I think he's telling me to leave with a constant nagging bad whistle.
I can see the head of a runner running by,
There's no way he's spotting me or so he should,
Free here in Landraw wood.
O'Reily@17072014.
