Then I Swore… Poem by Mark Heathcote

After the storm we entered the forest
To check out that all impending damage
We'd no doubt discover, later that august
Awhile, after in upended carnage.

In awe in shock, we did. Three fallen pines
Roots 8ft high, wall to wall so we clambered-
Over, inside was like a cave covered in vines.
"Let's make a hideaway a den we clamoured".

So we cutback and smoothed-out the floor
Gazed-up in wonder at the dimming sky,
Feeling all at once very small - then I swore…
As the air buzzed thick; with bees nearby.

I tore at roots to climb over, only to be
Pulled aback in that stinging attack…
Arms and legs, vie flailing in screams. We
Laughing ran away, never to return back.