Music of the Trees

It was the silence, the peace that captured my heart, By a woodland, untouched by man, ancient and old. By a babbling brook my story does start. I sit under an oak tree; it has survived a hundred years I am told. I sit with book and refreshments intending to stay the day. I love the continuous rhythm of the brook splashing by, The oak will keep me dry if rain comes my way. I come here to escape from life’s work and play. In the summer and autumn there comes a gentle breeze, There is music in the air; I think it is the singing of the trees, It is such a delight; it brings me comfort and ease. The breeze is harmonising the rustle of the trees leaves. Are the trees singing to the world or each other? All woodland life respects it, becomes mute while it in play. The music is so quiet and serene, yet from it you can take no cover. I sat enchanted, praying this joy would not stop or go away. I did not hear it stop, or did I sleep? I pick up my book and make my way home, I felt totally refreshed, I felt cleansed most deep. As I wend my way home in the gentle eventide, I espy another delight from the top of the hill A breath taking sight of our countryside which gave me great pride. Bathed in the rays of a glorious sunset radiating us with its glory. When I get home I contemplate a wonderful day, a memorable I think you would agree, spent in the company of our wonderful countryside, and being serenaded by “The Music of the Trees.”