"scorhill" poems
Ash Tree, Scorhill, Dartmoor.How many times did I pass you?Gnarled, twisted, soulful;You were a gateway to my otherworld,A silver portal to the circle of my heart,The winds have shaped your passage,Like a grey ship on stormy seas you have endured.The wave years have taken their toll,Branches bend now in nodding sleep…Your roots entwine the grey granite rocks,Smooth and strong, they bore my silent tear streaked dreams away….
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 1:16 AM UTC