The Forest
March 2011
#026
The Forests
Any forest is closely knit community of animals, flowers, trees plus insects who depend on each other for survival.
When humans use forests there are common sense rules to adhere to. If taking a car into a forest keep to the designated paths. Do not take the car into a near-by field. It might look laid down to grass, however it might be seeded with a valuable crop.
Fences are in place for a reason. They are not for jumping over. The piece of land set by could be protecting a rare ground-nesting bird or there might be rare spiders breeding.
Do not meander from paths. Drive slowly, using ones eyes, with caution.
When planning a picnic take extra plastic bags to clean up after your dog. Along with your food, take a bottle of water for your dog. Always keep your dog on a lead. Never a picnic fire unattended. Take your cigarette ends home, with all your rubbish, as plastic tins and bottles can kill.
Never ever throw anything whatsoever into water. Leave flowers and blossoms to grow where nature intended. At Christmas leave holly berries and mistletoe on the trees. Leave the forest as it was when you entered. Take nothing except your memories. Leave nothing except your footsteps.
Maggie Palmer
GROW
Chaos Theory Begins In The Rain Forest
A Butterfly
Flutters by
And the beat of its wings
Sets the air in rings
And every leaf of every tree in the rain forest sings
Then far away the storm clouds gather
The atmosphere gets in a lather
The wind speed is set to gain
And some place gets to feel the pain
Of a full blown powerful hurricane
Now, if you want to stop this mange
Or limit the range
Of Climate change
Don't stare up into the sky
Just kill the Bloody Butterfly
Footnote
whenever I recite this poem
I always know just where it's goin'
'cause I tell 'em that at the last line
it would be extremely fine
if when I say it loud and with great flair
both arms raise up to punch the air
I give a final triumphant shout
of “Yeahhh” just like a lager lout
which I'm not
only, I'm a scot,
so also a malt whisky lout
but I digress -- 'cause it's a mess
you see I always ask them if they agree
to give a cheer -- with me
for this solution to global warming
but they don't, instead they're swarming
and all I hear – is Booo!!, Booo!!.
What can I do?? – What can WE do??
Maybe, change our life style with strongest will??
Or, just, find some other bugger we need to kill??
Or we could fell all of the trees
and bring the forest to it's knees
so the leaves don't sing with the butterfly's wing
so no more storms, no more fuss
no more worries, no more us.
Dave Chambers
Newham Writers Workshop
Man Of The Forest
In the forest, Robin Hood, because he was very good,
Robbed from the rich, gave to the poor but no one does that anymore.
Now we have a robbing hoody, definitely not a goody,
Mugging kids and granny bashing, nicking cars just right for crashing.
He’s never in the woods a lot, he’s sniffing glue or smoking pot.
He’ll not stand by a greenwood tree, he’ll find a wall to have a pee.
The only forest he will see is Waltham Forest Magistry
And he’ll wear his A.S.B.O. with pride, like outlaws who he meets inside.
Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers
Entry Point
The poet calls me to a gleam of virescent vision;
of trees that percolate onto stalks tingling with tears.
Madrigal chorus of light,a dalliance on my face;
then hides itself behind veils of branches.
Look the forest awaits!Look the forest beckons!
When it comes I'm clothed in it's canopy.
Will rascals lie beneath the surface or
moonbeams deck pine needles with jewels?
The night owls perch on their cabin verandahs
and make their cooings the sport of kings.
Unravel the ribbon around the balk of a willow;
a few miles north west of the mistletoe gate
where jet black ravens with steel glint eyes,
carry reverant potions from sanctified nests;
concealed in mountains filled to capacity.
Here lie scarlet saplings,maudlin melodies
played on the strings of harpsichord harmonies
touching the devine.
Simon Walker
Goodmayes Writers
Epping Forest
MARCH 2011
The sun is shining
Tis a lovely day
My mind is travelling
On the motorway, miles away
To a lonely patch
I see the squirrels play
In a shady part in Epping
Where my loved ones lay.
This forest holds my memories
With thoughts it keeps me bound
The trees will soon be spreading
A shelter for the ground,
My heart is trapped and held
Where a wooden plaque is found
For me the journey ends
Where the birds gather round.
© Sally Flood
Newham Writers
Forest
Forest
Green, tall
Comforting, refreshing, chirping
Wild berries, fern, thicket, mushrooms
Timber, muddy roads, buzzing saws
Devastation, destruction
Clearings
Marie Neumann
POW!
Forest
Quiet sound of tall trees.
Smell like a gentle imtitation of Pine Sol.
I know it's the other way around.
I am thinking about daily use.
I sit on a luscious green moss.
Get up, you can catch a tick.
In front of me I see
light brown heads
of a mushroom family
and a cluster
of wild strawberries -
frugal gifts of the forest -
comparing to supermarket.
I like wild strawberries more.
I am looking up up up
into a blue and white sky,
surrounded by quiet
comforting sound of trees.
Swoosh, swoosh of the cars
on a highway
seems to be far faraway.
Marie Neumann
POW!
Person Of The Forest
(Orang Hutan - Malaysian)
(Diminished Hexagon)
Canopy swinging
Primeval great ape
Forages for food
Leather-faced focus
On loggers below
Move far away
Babe to protect
Refuge elsewhere
Leave fruit to rot
Nest mother
Hammock slung
Till sun rise
Smoke curl
Crackle
Fire!
Author's Note: Proud to say this poem was selected for the GROW 2011 Animal Kingdom calendar - raising awareness for endangered and mistreated creatures.
Jan Hedger
GROW
Olly's Outlook
Down in the rain forest all steamy and wet.
Olly the tree frog is very, very upset.
Some of his friends have lost their tree homes
And are having to live on the ground under stones.
Some have moved in with Olly, up in his big tree,
But there’s hardly enough room for his own family.
Now the big trees are falling, it's taking their cover.
Tractors and bulldozers are just knocking them over.
Then they burn the ground and roast their cousins.
Killing relatives and friends by the dozens and dozens
From his high up tree he can see things much clearer.
And he watches the machines get nearer and nearer.
He can't understand it, they've done nothing wrong.
So why are these men things destroying their home
The soot from the fires pollutes the damp air.
There's nothing they can do but look on in despair.
There seemed enough space for us all in this world.
But poor Olly and friends will just have to evolve.
And learn to live underground or perhaps to fly.
But for the moment he watches with tears in his eye.
Jim White
Magical Forest
I enter the forest and what do I see
All around me there's tree after tree.
A way has been laid but there seems no ending
This pathing I walk is not just straight it is bending.
I hear on my left a stream or a river
It is cold in the forest so I start to shiver.
There are magical sounds surrounding me
The cause of them I cannot see.
My feet are tiring and the path has no end
I find a seat just round the bend.
As I sit it gives me relief
But I hear things beyond my belief.
I've heard of people mention a fairy
But from person to person the stories vary.
I see some movement and twinkling too
The description is right so could it be true.
In all the strange noises to sleep I go
But they woke me but though didn't seem to know.
A thing of beauty with a face so sweet
I'd found a fairy on my hand and on my feet.
The warmth I found just at the sight
But then I moved they hid out of fright.
I’ve found some fairies hiding in the trees
From what I'd seen how lucky could I be.
In this forest the magic that I'd found
Which I'd been told there was around.
I’d found myself all what I had heard about
All the different stories that what's in there had came out.
This was one type of creature of magic that I'd saw
But it makes me think could there be more.
Maybe I should leave and let the nature live on
Just go and let them run free once I have gone.
I follow the path back to where I'd started
Although the forest seem mysterious as I departed.
This magical forest hiding creatures there
I think I'll find another one that must be near somewhere.
By Jamie Fidgett
Roseisle Forest; Burghead
Where the sea meets the forested shore
on the clean sweep of the Moray coastline
and Shadow Green needles intermingle with
crystal grains of sand; in an odoriferous
foot treading carpet for the wayfarer.
Jan Hedger
GROW
Be At Peace
His feet fell silently on the soft earth, wet leaves absorbing the sound. His lungs screamed with every breath and pain wracked his thin body.
They had wrung everything out of him; left him as empty as a shell washed up on the shore…soulless…forgotten…abandoned.
He was a frightened man! A desperate man! A hunted man! He had taken his chance, had seized the moment, and prayed. Then like some crazed nocturnal animal he had made a bolt for freedom.
Away from the room, the small…dark…dank…windowless room. Away, from the bombardment of questions, that pounded his head.
“Arthur, Arthur, can you hear me Arthur?”
“Arthur, open your eyes Arthur, look at me Arthur.”
“Just a small needle Arthur.”
“Arthur, keep still Arthur.”
“Arthur, leave the mask on.”
“Breathe… slowly…Arthur…”
Voices, like machine gun fire, surrounding him, cornering him, but never delivering the final blow.
Not much we can do for him now, just tender loving care.”
“Japanese prisoner of war wasn’t he?”
“Yes, his daughter was telling me last night, somewhere in Burma I think, managed to escape though, and spent the last few months of the war surviving alone in the jungle.”
The light was failing fast, mist hung heavy in the air. Dampness crept through his ragged clothes, chilling him to the bone. He shivered violently.
“Poor old soldier, he’s near demented.”
“Can someone go and get his daughter?”
Darkness wrapped itself around him, like a heavy cloak. Lost and disorientated he felt a raging torrent of panic. Every hair on his body bristled with fear.
He could feel his heart…thump…thump…thump…like a deep base drum, echoing, reverberating. The empty eyes of his lost soul stared wildly about him. They were everywhere!
He was as caught as a rabbit in a trap! Huge dark shapes loomed up out of the inky blackness; long arms reaching out from their twisted bodies. He cowered down like a wounded animal.
“Leave me be!” “Leave me be!” He cried out.
The shapes were silent. Sinking to his knees in despair, he wept.
“Leave… me… be…” His voice now merely a whisper.
Time stood still in suspended animation. Their came no shot, no sharp blade of steel and no release.
“Arthur, Arthur, it’s okay, hush Arthur, you’re in hospital.”
“Rest easy, Arthur." Slowly raising his head, he looked about him.
TREES! The shapes were just TREES! He laughed then. Hysterical, manic laughter, like that of a wailing banshee. Loud raucous laughter, that ebbed away to heart rendering sobs. His spirit broke. Reaching out with emaciated arms, his claw- like hands grasped for hope.
“Please… God…help…me…” a pitiful sound.
Her voice came to him then, softly, hauntingly; declaring her love for him, her faith in him, her need for him. Her sweet voice flowed through his veins. She was his life blood, his strength.
“Is that you my love? Is it really you…?
“Yes my love, be at peace now, I am here waiting…”
“Oh my love, I have missed you so. Where are you? Where are you? I cannot see you.”
“Believe, believe my darling.” Her gentle voice implored of him. “Believe and you will see me.”
Her beauty, a vision of loveliness appeared before him. Peace came upon his soul. He believed.
“I am coming my sweet, I am coming to you.”
He felt her gentle touch and her arms embraced him. He plunged into the mist and was lost.
Julia, with tears in her eyes, stroked the silver hair of the father she had loved so dearly. Years of torment, which had etched itself on his face, had disappeared, replaced by serenity. With an aching heart, she bent to kiss his cheek.
“Goodbye dad; give my love to mum, and dad, thank-you, thank-you for everything.”
Jan Hedger
GROW