GUIDED WALK IN MAULDEN WOOD
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| The woods | Norman in full flow |
Soon after we started, Bob and Cheryl spotted a pair of owlets in a tree. To prove it…….
After the visit (and tea at Jean’s) several members responded with poems inspired by the visit.
The Lady Bug
Bloodshot leafy branch Bathing the scarlet sun As butterflies glide.
(This is a rou’ata, an image poem, in a style originating from Kashmir, that should contain: 10 words, Nature, Colour, Opposites or Contrasts )
…………………………………………………………………..Maulden Woods
Where did you ramble? On boulder clay past briar and bramble to greensand ridge where sheep amble. What did you see? Wet-the-bed and hokey pokey hazel, ash and fairy tree. What did you hear? Great tits’ teacher teacher yabber of green woodpecker. What did you smell? Stinking nanny and granfer griggle May tree and wood sorrel. What was your goal? Poems like workings of the mole overflowings of the soul. Will you go again? When dog violets and spinkies reign and wood anemones dance Fonteyn when I can borrow somebody’s dogs and scrump in the grass for shiny scrogs and pick September’s thorny blogs. Then what will you do? Sing chip chip chip cheroo in archangel yellow and speedwell blue.
(Wet-the-bed is dandelion, hokey pokey stinging nettle, fairy tree the elder. Stinking nanny is wild garlic, granfer griggle bluebell, May tree hawthorn. Spinkies are primroses, scrogs crabapples and blogs blackberries. Chip chip chip cheroo is the song of the chaffinch.)
Back to TopOn Being Led Thro Maulden Wood
I followed Dan thro Maulden Wood The leader of the gang in my childhood. We packed food boxes and cut stout stakes We looked for giant foxes and hunted for snakes. We got itches on our britches in our short pants We were bitten by midges and dark wood ants We got stung by bees and burned by the sun. But all I remember is, Oh what fun. And in my youth I took the lead With dearest Ruth by an old oak tree. But sweet young Ruth got blistered knees And ran away with nought to say. So I sat by the oak tree all alone With only the hokey pokey to blame. But now more sage in older age I went again with Norman Janes. Now he has a tongue like a blackcap’s song And though it sounds a bit absurd Norman has learned to talk to the birds. In yellow-hammer he is truly at ease And sings “It’s-a-little-bit-of-bread-and-no-cheese”. He’s fluent in finch and his robin is fine He says it’s a cinch; it just takes time. He can talk in wren, he can whistle and cackle, And once in a while he can prattle in yaffle. He told everyone to enjoy all the fun , To open one’s eyes and to look all around, To look in the skies and the holes in the ground, And almost at once four sharp little eyes Spotted a timid Cheryl on one of the rides With the great spotted male stood by its side. And two little owls had had a great day Finding two tame humans who’d not run away. But back with Norman-------------------------------- He showed us a bugle that made no sound, But it looked like a bit of old mint in the ground. He showed us a greenwood tree that was grey. He showed us a hawthorn – I thought it was may. And his mountain ash looked like rowan to us And the throstle he showed us looked more like a thrush. Now Ravina was walking along in the rear. She was frightened of adders and small barking deer, And what’s even sadder and what we all fear She was talking to trees when no-one was near. And Marysia who thought we had walked round and round Was anxious to know for where we were bound. She said that she thought we had walked far enough And by dandelion time it was twenty past puff. But it must have been Norman’s strange sense of fun, For we all ended up just where we’d begun. And then we went back to Jean’s for some tea And sank in the chairs and felt quite at ease. Her wonderful spread was devoured with glee And as I’d picked up the lingo of birds in the trees I tested out Norman, and said – “If you please I’ll just have a little bit of bread and no cheese”