Best Coppice Poems


Premium Member Long Distant Dream

I meander through verdant valley
where meadows collide in windswept jade,
hillsides bathe in summer sunshine
and oceans of clouds, commit to shade.

Moorland sheep laze in woolly clusters
creating footpaths upon the hill,
busy hedgerow a rural city
scar of an era, is town head mill.

Vibrant coppice alive with creatures
leafy towers caress morning mist,
sunlight shines on distant window
across the valley, a sapphire twist.

Crag and beacon rise majestic
standing stone a monument to thrall,
sculptured by marauding seasons
an ancient culture’s, rocky stall.

Yet to chance upon misty patterns
softly sketched upon the hill,
I will savour these happy moments
awakening to, a distant trill.


Wharfedale, Yorkshire England

© Harry J Horsman  2001
Categories: coppice, nature,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Morning

The morning broke pragmatically
As the warmth kissed the dew goodbye.
And the thunder clouds who haunted nigh
Had fled and left an open sky.
Where an aged thrasher voiced a song of love
That rained down from up on high.

The towered trees would cast their shade
As the Sun rose to melt the day.
And a breath of coolness came over me
To lead my soul astray.
And marvel at the many twigs and leaves
Still left from fall's decay.

A beguiling tiger lily lay at my feet
To mark its space from meddling spores.
And claim a right to live its life
As the victor of a callous Nature's wars.
But it brought me peace knowing of its bloom
Just like the day before.

A coppice wall stretched beyond the light
To give sense and realm to my domain.
And it served me well on weathered days
When subjected to a dreary sleeted rain.
But this pleasant morning would have none of that
So I had few reasons to complain.

A Man wavered at his assigned post
With a gaunt and haunting stare.
And mumbled tearfully as children do
Some long forgotten prayer.
But as to who and what the message was...
I was keenly well aware.

And the day wore on till night's first creep
With the laws of Nature well behaved.
But the thrasher still flew and spun its tune
Of a life so grand and brave.
And I took great comfort from its song of joy
As I lay peacefully in my grave.

                     The End
Categories: coppice, freedom, happiness, introspection,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nature

Gray hills of impenetrable coppice draw down clouds in misty rain.
Limbs and leaves weigh down with invited teardrops that keeps their soul alive.
Forest floor whose dress adorn with verdant ferns, shrubs, and young trees.
Picturesque waterfall's resounding clamor rushes forth in abundance
and streams upon an outcrop of epiphytic moss draped rocks and woody roots.
A tree hollow speaks of creature’s footstep on land of encouraging beauty.


3/31/2019


Poetry Contest: Best free verse 2019' 
Sponsored By: John Hamilton
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, nature,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Race

The gust of wind, the twist of pedals,
the race till sunset, with no medals.
My way will be on even roads
or in a coppice on potholes.

The Sun's zenith, there is no grief,
the wheels, embracing the relief,
will bear me uphill and downhill.  
They break my sp'rit to be revealed.

The day for long, the night not soon,
each mile is dear on the route.
Press on my pedals in a distance
to be delayed death by resistance.
Categories: coppice, life,
Form: Rhyme

Save the Trees

Silent giants  oxygen machines
The lungs of mother nature
Wilderness  wonderlands
Coppice, copse, or just a stand
Thicket, timberland
Parks for playing hide and seek
Natures vast expanse
A land of plants and trees galore
A place of peace and quiet
Not a place for corporate greed
Poisoned water, acid rain
Tarmac covered over coat
Air pollution, choking smoke  
Brought to you by business folk
Politian’s cry false tears
And pledge to save the sacred trees
Spending money made of paper
How ironic 
Save the trees
Categories: coppice, nature,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Naked Tree

Beneath a desolate sky
Intricate simplicity,
Richness of colours in fall
A coppice carpet.

 © Harry J Horsman 2020
Categories: coppice, autumn,
Form: Dodoitsu


Premium Member A Kingdom In Need of Ruling

Amidst forest sheath, shelters a castle once coppice
Yielded promises once kept now relinquished roughness
Shadows lace the ferns, cracks, and emboss moss; orchestral 
Pieces crawl upon the ancestral stone castle walls
Noiseless dark and foreboding hypnotic mistral wind 
Surround and bound my realm of one with one and all blind

Ought I, beget this magical slumbering beauty
Verdant tapestries would flourish my solemn duty
Sovereignty thereof my own medieval kingdom
Beauty in its grandeur, brandish domains sublime rhythm
Kingdom undivided ruled with integrity
Capture back what had been once blessed with its legacy


Days would chuckle with praise of honeysuckle sunlight
Rewriting freedom like the ocean waves move to bite
Bathed in the light will flourish enjoying the harvest 
Overflowing wealth of golden fields, rivers, harnessed
Gardens comfort lambent skies through nourishing seasons
In my  reign;  doors open welcoming to the region


2/25/2017
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, beauty, hope, world,
Form: Free verse

From the Ash Tree

Falling leaves of the ash tree
Burned to the ground
Behind you see
The embers found

Wind flows without directional need
Branches fallen lain to fritter
Spreading remains of the withered seed 
Yore the scorch the earth un wither

Sprouting stem from far you flew
Careen a trail of destination
Giving birth to hope anew 
Tree’s first breath of transpiration

Coppice recapitulate
Life perpetuate
Categories: coppice, natural disasters, nature, recovery
Form: Sonnet

Come Lover Mine

In village Taraigh
smoky limbs - gaunt grey
arms akimbo
twirl an' sweep from stumpy stacks,
peep faces from chimneys
to dark night falling
whilst 'draggled' owl cedes to instincts
navigation near done, over
from-by this old beast dying

was time
when ancients told
an owl's screech oft heralds
its sleep of fame full blameless
that the echoes
'cross valley an' path to peaks
play welcome to another world..
but nobody told
who unlocked the way to Great Tawny

there in the midst of Gharigh Bael
sits he a'bough
watching grime-grey shadows
seep midnight dark
eating holes 'bout mourning Moon's faint reflection -
hiding his face 'neath
sentry Sirius' soft wing,
feebly stretching
invisible path 'cross Sloulti tarn

this - his many years wise-royal realm
filled full to brim
of beasts a'plenty
of tales told of the heat of slate..
'.. avoid the rise
of the grey gasp born of earth
flames burned from northern old oak
once the rest of my night
the home of my love.. '

the poet heaves a solemn sigh
hears moans of winter come
crisping an' crunching
the sharp sheen of holly to raw rich silver
an' in a nearby coppice
trembles a proud full stag
holding tears at bay with sucking gums
remembering
the sound of his friend's wings sweeping space

in the dull of midnight
barley sugar stack loses helm
to the murk of smoke-smudged Monday
comes now
Basaillun Mort with song-smiling face alive .
an'  - soft from velvet night
far beyond in the best of brightling space
an owl calls in woman tone
'Come lover mine, come fly.'
© Emma Green  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, fantasy, love, myth,
Form: Free verse

Chitter

chickadees chatter
camaraderie contained in
clamorous coppice
Categories: coppice, nature
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Romantic Moon

beneath dusk twilight
briskness of the night
off a bumpy quiet foot
path, deeper into
root of virgin forest
towards narrow a patch.

breathless, beneath
thick mixed coppice
nightingales croon,
nature sleeps.

moon views with romantic
pleasure upon scintillating
obsidian hue lake.

natures breath held
briefest of hesitations
fish breaks the surface
ripples sweep swirling
beyond the lake
swept away in darkness.

lovers in a canoe
enthralled by sensation
of nostalgic moon.


2/16/2020
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, imagery, love, nature,
Form: Free verse

A Young Stacker of Firewood

My father’s timber array arrived on an 
overloaded Diamond Reo flatbed. 
It dumped oak scraps, leafless dead-woods, 
inspiring last metamorphosis to 
warming fires come winter’s weather. 

Empty, truck leaves then heaves 
into a scrubby alley 
squeezing by barely. 
With its narrow fit made 
it disappearing through a backyard gate 
into a cloud of its own making 
belched from two shaking 
upright tailpipes. 

Bark cull, coppice slats, saw food pilled 
to near roof high. This sawmill refuge awaits 
stacking sequent, once cross-sawed 
and set to a suitable size for stove fodder. 

I am father's volunteer; I am the master stacker 
of wand-wood. With my bow-saw in hand, 
I look not on labor of hours nor days, but eternities. 

In the eyes of evolution's lies I see ancient youths, 
countless fellows of ten-years-old like me 
and leap with them to the task of cave dwellers.
Categories: coppice, life, work,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Breezing Trees Heard the Whispers of Leaves

Amidst trees cover; shelters shadow, lace 
Ferns, and flora. A citadel's embrace
Once coppice now cracks, and cushion soft moss. 
Liana crawls upon the stone, exhausts 
Castle walls for access to the filter 
Of sunlight, sweet fragrant magic philter.  
Noiseless dark and deep, disquiet rhythmic 
Mistral wind, alongside natures lactic, 
Lying in ill warrant still slumbering.
Its own age quill rule; restless wandering 
In its grandeur, brandish securities. 
Ought they, beget these magical beauties, 
Crows radiant mid-night impudent thieves,
Where breezing trees heard the whispers of leaves.


4/17/2020

Poetry Contest:  Poetic Lines From A Poetry Soup Poet - Vijay Pandit 
Breezing trees heard the whispers of leaves - From the poem, The last goodbye
Sponsored by: Silent One
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, bird, imagery, nature,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Yonder

snow on distant hills
windy coppice
new stars twinkle
© Peter Rees  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: coppice, winter,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member The Flying Scotsman

Big Ben strikes ten, depart Kings Cross.
Squeal of tight wheel, where lines criss-cross.
Clickety-clack. Clickety clack.
Now heading north-bound on fast track.

Leave city sprawl in grey and grime 
for now we're on East Coast mainline 
in rural space, expanse of green,
where all around, countryside scene.

My window view is flashing by,
too fast for focus of my eye.
Field after field, farming landscape.
Golden barley, bright yellow rape.

Wood with coppice, hedge and hawthorn.
Few grazing sheep looking forlorn.
On steep hillside, deserted farm,
red-brick decay falling down barn. 

Whistle warning, speed through stations, 
each one gone in just two seconds.
Now reach Yorkshire where engine built.
Accelerating to full tilt.

Non-stop on straight, all clear ahead.
And now we hit the full hundred.
Still at top speed and close to coast.
Through industry, of the North East.

Now parallel to Roman road, 
to Edinburgh with full payload.
We're nearly there and right on time.
Now slowing down for station line.

Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack.
Over the points to platform track.
Arrive on time in the city, 
the clock showing just six thirty.
Categories: coppice, england, travel,
Form: Couplet
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