Fir Green


Fir Green

The woods are holding the owls deep in their clefts
Their voices hollow out the dark blue void
Eyes shut, you are speaking to me, your warm hand
Enfolding the day’s essence,a  dark chocolate voice
Resonates in my heartwood
I hear it at night narrating some oaken verse
As though a man came out of the greenwood
And offered me a  mossy seat on a fallen tree
To tell me folk stories of golden maids
And violet charms that fall at midnight
A thread of silver seeps into a bird’s call
Bidding the forest to keep its secret.


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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3 Responses to Fir Green

  1. Bart Wolffe says:

    Reblogged this on Bart Wolffe and commented:
    This is my poetess at work. I adore her voice.

    Liked by 1 person

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