A winter walk…

horse
Coated horse in a winter field

The winter tang from fresh wet bark
Brushes senses gentle as I walk by
Across the dew-wet meadow
And over the aged and rotting stile.

A cheeky fox trots swiftly over the way
His keen eye never leaves my sight
He sidles through the hedgerow
I think no food he caught last night.

I hear the screech of hawks nearby
Some little creature met his match
And though it’s sad when they get caught
The kestrels hover over this patch.

Horses whinny in the field nearby
As they shuffle in the cold damp grass
One of them leans across the fence to me
So I stop and stroke her head as I pass.

Steam rises up from her white wet nose
There’s such pride in her noble face
And she’s not too cold with the near high hedge
And the winter coat tied in place.

The sun starts to rise now over the fields
And a warm day’s expected, which is fine
I believe it’s the greatest start to the day
Taking walks within Nature’s design.

©Joe Wilson – A winter walk…2016

Seasonal Acrostic…

 

 

 Winter has dumped her bounty upon us again
 In snow-covered landscapes which to some are a pain
‘Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible’
Tractors pulling cars and more patients in hospital
Eventually it thaws and it all goes quite hoary
Returning our pothole-filled roads in all of their glory.

 
Spring is on its way though, so be of good cheer
Plants that were hidden now start to appear
Remember resolutions you made at New Year
In front of your friends who’ll remind you I fear
Now get on your bike as you promised you’d do
Get fitter this year, it’s a good thing to do.

 
Summer comes in with a rush of bright colour
Up comes the grass and the mower bag gets fuller
Mimosa and marigolds are out in full show
Mild summer breezes are starting to blow
Even as the nights start to draw in again
Red skies at night hold off much of the rain.

 
Autumn arrives with the wind through the trees
Unsticking leaves that have held on with ease
Taking them all on a trip through the air
Upstart that it is drops some here and some there
Many leaves are golden, others are bright red
Now dying back ready for winter instead.

 
 

©Joe Wilson – Seasonal Acrostic…2015

It isn’t ours…

Has man ever really stopped and looked
at all the beauty that Nature has cooked
arrayed throughout the world to see
by stumbling humans like you and me.

Deserts filled with shifting sand
moved by winds and Nature’s hand
creating dunes of epic scale
compared to this we are so frail.

Rill and brook, stream and creek
all a river’s end they seek
as they head for oceans wide
moving always with the tide.

Filled with fish of every size
sometimes caught for dinner’s prize
and on their trek it’s life or death
they struggle on for every breath.

Through the forests these rivers flow
passing trees whose names we know
they’re the lifeblood of our world
new breath with every leaf unfurled.

Too often though we cut them down
turning green land into brown
and yet somehow there are still flowers
grown by Nature’s greater powers.

They brighten days in glorious hues
so many colours, too many to choose
in meadows watered by rivers’ flow
past those trees whose names we know.

And on to seas with sharks and whales
the mighty Blues with their giant tails
whose flukes are wider than football fields
what majestic beauty the ocean yields.

To care for our planet we would do well
it’s a living thing not just a shell
it isn’t ours to destroy and maim
it’s future health should be our aim.

©Joe Wilson – It isn’t ours…2015

The unseen journey…

Messages carried along
meandering lanes
without conscious input
by electronic impulses are
speeding across the sinews,
through the blood avenues
and down the back alleys
to our feet, on the footpath
of life
telling us
that pressing on
is the only

way

forward.

Meanwhile telegrams
travel to the very edges
of our arterial network
sending instructions
to our shoulders
and on
to our arms and hands
to move in beautiful unison
with our feet
thus
allowing us
to set out
using
our form of

propulsion.

And so we amble on
blissfully unaware
of the arduous tasks
our body will carry out
every second
of every day

for

all

of

our lives.

©Joe Wilson – The unseen journey…2015

The winter struggle…

Winter creeps across the land
where mighty oaks and birch trees stand
and insects hid beneath the ground
face certain death if they are found
by mice or rats…and foxes too
nature’s food chain survival glue.

But up above the canopy
buzzards hunt by two or three
they square the ground on high patrol
in search of rabbit or tasty vole
life’s bitter struggle is borne this way
the same tomorrow as yesterday.

And as the winter creep moves on
the weakest creatures now all gone
rats and rabbits…mice and voles
bed down for winter in food-stocked holes
yet o’er the land where we draw breath
there’s barely sign of this fight with death.

 

©Joe Wilson – The winter struggle…2015

 

An ode to trees…

Slim grows the Willow sapling
before it blossoms wide
while through the gate of mighty Oak
the Ivy grows up by its side,
and seated on this chair of Beech
I gaze at the Rowan berries
reduce in number as I watch
as birds are making merry,
and walking round the meadow
where Lime trees grow quite tall
the Redwoods push up to the sky
to dominate them all.
We pass the nearby churchyard
where Yew trees always grew,
the tree that has the sorry task
of saying goodbye to you.

 

©Joe Wilson – An ode to trees… 2014

November morning…

DSCF0127

 

Golden skies greet the land
as night throws off its mantle
dawn slowly emerges from the shadows
to welcome the new day so gentle
trees sway in the soft breeze
while birds chatter as they wake
to the bright sunshine that is
a beautiful warm November day.
As the day moves on the blue tits fly
having taken their daily fill of nuts and seeds
but feeders, still bearing their bounty,
are soon fallen upon in frenzied melee
by sparrows and starlings, a riotous sight,
till soon they too will fly away
at the start of evening dusk display.
All day long they constantly chatter.
All day long they feed.
All day long we are blessed by their company,
and thus we are always grateful.

©Joe Wilson – November morning… 2014