Indigenous forest so awash with trees.
Leaves strum a tune in the cool Autumn breeze.
Rustling rowans and galloping ash.
A rustic blanket for a well trodden path.
Plum tinged foliage,fleet of foot in the dance.
Melancholy movements has me in a trance.
Woodland dance floor with pine-needle skin.
Acorns descend hit the floor and join in.
Ancient great oak stands fearless and tall.
Watchfully presiding over each leaf that falls.
The seasons will pass and flowers will flourish.
All dancing their feet in Gods soil to nourish.
Drifting of herbs and bluebells in spring.
Come Summer,a chorus,the nightjar will sing.
Badgers emerging on mild winter nights.
Flittering bats in forest twilight.
Crossbills and siskins searching for fruit.
Goshawks and buzzards circle and swoop.
Indigenous forest,a landscape supreme.
Take the kids there tomorrow,its got to be seen.
Copyright © William Willis