When it comes to writing poetry I often find inspiration in the most unusual places. In this instance it was during the return journey from a very normal day out with my family. Driving through the countryside my partner excitedly shouted for me to look at a tree; one of those classic moments where you can’t look fast enough.
Until I saw it.
Out of the very last window in the car, at the top of a hill, stood a single tree. Charcoal grey against sky-blue, it was unmissable. He knew I would love it.
The landscape was a typical english view of fields with hedge partitions, yet this tiny tree dominated it.The scene so perfectly composed, and not so much as a shrub to steal its light. Long-dead and ravaged by lightening, it set my artistic temperament afire. So I wrote, and the poem below is the result.
I should note that in a state of awe-struck sentimentality I completely missed taking a decent photo of the tree, but I will ensure to take one the next time I’m travelling that way… enjoy!
Up on windy hill I stand alone,Where once the sun on green leaves shone.Damaged, but I stand strong.Stripped of the beauty of youth, and easier days long gone,My life force dissipating, but roots still draw deep from darkest earth.Without green leaves to distract new qualities emerge,Hidden depths and beauty upon my bark coverge;A rhapsody of knowing, for now I am wise and learned.And I can tell my stories, my life you may observe,For they are written in my branches, on every line and curve.Stark against the landscape, silhouette against the sky,Invisible to many, except for longing eye.
Photo credit to