In Firestone where oak meets pine <br />A woodland that is so divine, <br />Its pathway crazed and strewn with cone <br />The ground is dry and hard as stone, <br />With roots exposed along the track <br />And bending like a serpent's back, <br />And twisting as they fall and rise <br />A tangled web on pathway lies. <br /> <br />The ferns so green along the way <br />The wildest rose in full display, <br />Its tiny petals are in flower <br />A splash of pink beneath the bower, <br />So cool the soft caressing breeze <br />As ivy twists around the trees, <br />The nettles growing in the shade <br />Now stand like soldiers on parade. <br /> <br />Beside the wood lies Wootton Creek <br />A haven where the ducks do seek, <br />For food upon the tidal plain <br />They walk its length time and again, <br />A heron fixed in sedge and reed <br />And waiting for a chance to feed, <br />On fish that swim as shallows fill <br />Upon the bank remains so still. <br /> <br />On muddy flats the footprints show <br />The sunlight shines as waters flow, <br />And ripples sparkle on the sea <br />That's moving so majestically, <br />The tide is growing ever higher <br />And so it slowly floods the mire, <br />Relentlessly it carries on <br />Until the muddy plains have gone.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/firestone-2/
