know your trees, say hello to the Oak acknowledge the kindness of everyday folk learn the legend of the Hawthorn and listen to birds and never underestimate the power of words don’t take it too seriously, smile, it’s okay treat yourself daily and don’t lose the urge to play be a bit weird and laugh at yourself remember that love is bigger than wealth talk to yourself, be your own best friend accept you’ll be the only one left at the end cause no harm, run free, be wild never ever desert your inner child watch clouds, see stories everywhere you go there is peace and mystery in the everyday flow of rivers and streams and winds through the trees and don’t forget to plant seeds for butterflies and bees be soft, be gentle, be nothing but kind go barefoot, hug trees, because there isn’t much time be true to yourself, reject all that is fake more importantly of all, there must always be cake
Can I tell you about some of my favourite trees? Feel the need to share how they impact me and I worry there might be something wrong with you if you don’t have a favourite oak or two I’ll start with the best one, the tallest oak in town stands like a sentry, guarding over our home the ‘twins’ are the next I want to show you where one trunk grew greedy and split into two and I’m greedy for oaks, I can’t get enough even the sad hollow one that refuses to give up there are a few oaks that look like octopi some boughs scrape the ground while some reach for sky round the corner squats the short fat angry one and there is a dead one covered in rhododendron the oldest are dying, but they’ll still outlive me on them every day a buzzard perches proudly further down the one I name ‘classic’ oak tree it’s cliched ‘tree shape’ stands in a field of green across the lane, the oaks stand tall and hold hands creating a canopy of green over this land but let’s not forget the ash, willow, hazel or beech the sycamore, hawthorn, alder or holly trees so many trees, do you know any of their names? doesn’t passing without a smile, fill you with shame? it’s a worry to me, something I can’t understand people who don’t long to touch trees with their hand touch them, hug them, climb them and breathe what is wrong with you, if you don’t have a favourite tree?
I still can’t believe it. Getting boosted on Medium is a huge deal because it brings far more readers to your work which translates nicely to more earnings. I have been extremely lucky to have been boosted many times since I joined Medium over eighteen months ago, but I never, ever expected to get boosted for a poem! Poems and short form writing don’t do so well on Medium because they are so short, but it’s still a lot of fun to write them and in particular, I love responding to writing prompts.
I was thrilled to bits to have this poem boosted as it is my favourite one at the moment. It was written in response to a prompt from the Promptly Written publication which suggested keeping a gratitude journal and writing a poem a day from it.
I’ve been thinking about gratitude a lot lately so this was really timely for me and immediately caught my interest.
I wrote a poem for Monday which got a few reads and earned me a few pence, then posted the following poem for Tuesday, which was about walking my elderly dog Tinks down the lane. Getting boosted for this really means a lot as we all know she is on her last doddery legs and every moment with her is precious. For her poem to get boosted and seen by more people is just lovely.
Anyway, here it is, alongside a photo I took of her on the day in question.
image is mine
Just for while we had the world to ourselves in a moody silence just the buzzard on the oak tree looking over its shoulder to follow our slow progress just the fast flit of tiny birds from one hedgerow to another just the crows taking off lazily and the pheasant on the fence post just wandering alongside you matching your feeble pace and the age it takes to get from here to there and back again is the time it takes for everything to fall silent for this beauty to breathe so slowly that I can breathe with it in, out, in, out with the time to see, hear, taste and smell the lonely land falling asleep as winter creeps into your old bones
Hi folks! I have got so much content now on Medium – a lovely mix of essays, articles, poems and stories, so I thought for this week on the blog I would share a poem that recently did quite well for me there. I still can’t get my head around getting paid to write my poems!!
Would it be okay to not do anything to leave today and maybe tomorrow too whatever, however long it takes for the feeling to pass of the world ending of disaster and death and my decay and the transition into bones and dust would it be okay if I said not today? I can’t do it today my mind is a trap a battlefield I can’t escape from and your silence was too loud when I tried to talk if the world lets me I’ll cancel today bury myself in bed find comfort in words instead get lost and sad inside my own head feel myself dissipate in the dark embrace my bones knowing it’s okay to watch the last sunset alone
Thank you for reading! I am in the process of compiling all my Medium poems and pieces of fiction into a new book I’ll publish at some point. I’ll keep you posted on that but I already know it will be called Dirty Little Feet and Other Tales and Poems.
The Glorious Outsiders 