Inspired by a photo taken as a boy of an old tree down a village lane, that led to the church.

A re-write



A Tree in Kent

Though stripped of bark

and can no more

shade the ground

with it’s emerald thatch,

still it stands stark against

the many skies, defying

gale, frost and rain .

And within,

the past is trapped,

hidden behind concentric code.

The hands that were held

as love was first felt under

the budding spring,

the workers respite

from the harvest heat,

the cool air breeze caught

by summer leaf,

and the children’s laughter

from high branches,

forever voices.

Someday time will tell

and boughs will break,

the tree will fall, reduced

to splintered stump,

to be remembered until

memories are no more.


5 thoughts on “A TREE IN KENT

  1. Simply gorgeous, Nige ! I love the gentle flow of this and how we see so much through the tree and changing seasons; first loves, relief from the sun, the leaf blowing in the breeze, and children’s laughter/voices.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You capture well, Nigel, the fascination of trees – even when no longer living. Your poem chimes well with a recently published book I am currently reading called ‘The Hidden Life of Trees’ (Pub. Collins) , by a German author, Peter Wohlleben, in which he tells of what they feel, how they communicate, and how they live in a different time scale to humans. I recommend it.

    Liked by 1 person

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