Poems of the Forest.
Autumn in the forest by TG
I know of a place of such wonderful sights On seeing, your heart and your soul it delights No pallet could truly capture its hue Its painted for many, not a privileged few. Its canvass, it also has a glorious past Has made many legends that will always last But rising above it like some beautiful jewels And casting its glory on dark and deep pools So dense and so lush ,in the sun it will thrive But its in the eighth month that it does come alive More colours than words to describe them there are This wonder brings pilgrims from lands great afar The deepest of reds and the subtlest you have seen The most cherished of yellows and all in-between . Orange that haunts you like a remembered first love A true gift from the Gods, blessings from above. As the frost hits the air and the ground with its bite. This land will strike back with this passionate sight As the sun rises high this autumnal late morn A hundred million diamonds are shredded and torn No rich man will ever just purchase this prize And keeping it hidden , just for his greedy eyes For this art is for you , for us ,one and all Make sure that you see it before the leaves fall.
Apple Trees by TG
The Spring we would wait for, all full of good intention You would tell me be patient more times than I can mention You were always so right and very little you lost To the sharp and the bitter overnight frost. The summer was full of colours, of flavours and taste Potatoes and salads we would dig and pull with such haste We tended the glorious bounty that this season brought And maybe I ate more strawberries and beans than I ought The season that’s autumn would bring us your favourite time What seemed like an army of brassica standing in line You were right when you said that the rain and the gale Improved the taste of a huge plate of curly kale Winter was our rest time where we would sit together and plot Our assault on the next years gardening, perhaps with a small tot Would our runner beans we choose have red or white flowers? Dad I would sit and learn from you for hours and hours. I’ve lost you this year and yet the seasons don’t seem to change Without you being here I never had any broad beans to arrange But I will continue to teach my lads the way you taught me How the seasons in a garden can be so much more than apple trees
A seventies childhood by TG
Coverham Road was my base , the Gwilliam family home A place in my heart , from which we would explore and would roam. Berry Hill in the 70s was a different place to live A multitude of stores with many lessons to give. The Post office counter was my first remembered store Mr Harold Powell l and my Dad telling tales of the war. But later id join in those chats with this postmaster As we discussed cricket, who batted well and bowled faster Around to the book shop and old Mr and Mrs Jones Bigger kids doing rounds on bikes that shook bones Thursdays were manic, when the Guardian had come in All those Ladies and gents in that shop all talking a din To Bobby Astons we went for food and that stuff He was a mate of our Dads so was obvious enough It was later run by an Ellis then Harry made it a Spar. Now it’s a house, no sign of a loaf , a tin or a jar. On the Chapel Road cross by the hut, there was more Saxtons was another friendly grocery store It changed hands a few times , im sure twas owned by the Bells Simon was the last , now that’s a big house as well. Just over the road was a hairdressers where we went. Ron Staffords, for a trim up , an hour or so spent I was five and something for the weekend ?Ron would say All the old chaps sat with Dad would just chuckle away. The jug and bottle at the Globe , That sweet smell of its bar To a seven year old is so exotic and yet so far .Ken and Stella Taylor the owners were so nice Dad played the piano there perhaps that was the price, I haven’t even mentioned huge Tanyards or the Dairy Or Berry Hiil Chippy run by Dereck and was it Mary? Near the top of the Lonk was this wonderful shop Where the in the warm summer evenings the campers would stop There was delivery around here as well on the hill The chemist van would come with its potions and pills Baldwins and Downhams delivered its bread Oh and offers of elvers from Gordy and Fred. I learnt oh so much as I went to these places Even now I hear the voices , not always see the faces As I went with my Dad to explore Berry Hills shops. Where we could get beansticks, a paper or some chops. Its simplistic I know but I just have to say It’s a shame those places are not here today So many people from a very different time But they will sit better in a very different rhyme..
Big Pigs and a bloke from Glawster by TG
It really byunt nothing like it was when I was just a nipper To ave stayed in my pjs all day long would ave got me a glimpse of a slipper We only did that when we wuz sick we just cossent ave gone out and played And come to think it were only these times when we got to drink Lucozade But apparently now it be alright to stay in thy night attire And use thee thumbs to muv a short stick and make thick xbox fire It chunt the way that we used to spend them lovely long zummer breaks Running around and playing games and riding bikes with most dubious brakes A scab on thee knee weren’t something about that youd wail and holler It were a battle scar out of the ood when you were the kiddy to foller A long stemmed fern did most treckly make a fine and chuckable spear And I don’t remember ever losing an eye, and there weren’t no boar to fear Our gang from the ill would stroll on down to Coleford and them we did play We would take em on at footy or if it were ot at cricket in a test all day They wuz our mates though we ad the odd scrap when someone did argue the score But the very next day we wuz best buddies and respected em even more. I know times ave changed and it chunt the same place as we had back then in them days. Theres people about that shouldn’t be ere and theres wild boar in the light summer haze Theres more traffic about,the weather is bad and the woods all cut back right roughly And if thee doossent look out your likely to be run over by a cyclist from tuffley So to rog and to nossy and to farry and wilf Ill just say didn’t we ave some fun And the sun always did shine that wasn’t a myth we stayed out until we were done. I even remember it getting so hot, that dad got up to garden at Five We didn’t ave much but I byunt alf glad I weren’t dependant on x box live
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