A Walk Of Trees Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

Come with me. along a path I know
That runs beside a deep narrow river
That in places is only a stream
Into which twiggy alders and willows
Like to dip their long thirsty roots
Further along is a good sized coppice
Of birch and hazel and rowan
While around the field, instead of a fence
Grows a hawthorn and blackthorn hedge
There are elders there too, whose black fruit
Make a lovely dry red wine
And if we go on a little more
We will see in the meadow
Oak, beech and lime, hornbeam and elm
Whilst now on the other side
Blocking our view, though not the sound of the water
Are tall stands of brambles, full of berries
That make good pies and also sweet wine
The path ends at the lych gate
Of the old village churchyard
Shadowing the graves are the yew and the holly
The aspen and one giant of a cedar.