Butleigh - Wassail
Dead Trees
It looks like there's nothing happening
That's what you can see
The tree is busy down below
Even when the ground is covered in snow.

It starts getting cold
It starts getting chilly
The leaves are gone
The tree is trying very hard
It tries to grow its shoots
It looks like nothing's happening
That's what you can see.
-- Emily Corfield --

Ghost Tree

Spirits float from tree to tree
Ghost tree, skeleton tree
I hear them whisper, whisper
" Look, listen, Listen to the trees" I say
But no one's there. I'm all alone
The trees suddenly mirror me
And the shouts getting quieter and quieter
"Listen to the trees, the trees, the trees "

Suddenly they seem to twist out of shape
Into roaring devils, throwing down thunderbolts
And spitting at me.
I run and run, but the trees won't stop jeering
The grass is soft and wet
And carries me on my way home
I burst through the door to face....
A warm fire and apple pie. It's all over.
-- Julia Sheills --

Who am I ?

I am a flaky skinned, big white spotted
Mistletoe growing tree,
I have thin arms and long legs
Which are rooted into the ground
Nobody can hear a sound
Except the occasion song of a lone black bird
That's who I am.
-- Kate Durbin --

Group Poems
Skeleton of the orchard
I rub my back against an old tree
It creaks. This time of year
The orchard is quiet. It's comforting.
The sky's constantly changing colour
Different trees getting duller and duller
And instead of the apples
There is a soft green moss.
Look at the mistletoe, copper yellow mistletoe
But deep in their heart
They are getting ready
For the big blooming spring.
In the middle of the orchard a fire burns
Everyone standing round.
Apple pie in the kitchen.
It looks like nothing's happening
That's what you can see.
There are millions like me
But I am unique
Spirits float from tree to tree
The trees are dormant quiet and sleepy
I am a flaky skinned, big white spotted
Mistletoe growing tree
There's not a red one to be found
Bare trees whisper like skeletons on the move
I am the one who is known as the tree.
Fire wood

The great old apple tree
Was chopped and torn

Now it lies in the fire
Wood pile all forlorn.
-- Katy Ball --

Skeleton of the orchard
Birds cheeping, sky changing
Some trees old, some trees new
Bark falling
Mistletoe all around me
Lichen brown and grey.

Nice colours all around me
Bare trees swaying in the breeze
Grass like a jungle
Tips as sharp as blades
Trees staring at me
Squished apples, black and brown.
-- Alfie Lee --

Orchard Winter Poem
Yellow green grass surrounds our class
A thin carpet of leaves
And leftover mistletoe on the trees
A cold, cloudy sky.

I gallop between the trees silently
I whinny to my friend
I rub my back against an old tree
It creaks this time of year
The orchard is quiet, it's comforting.

I sing my song
I lift my wings and fly
This is my home
Yet in the summer
it is my time to go
But I'll be back in the following winter
I'll be back, back in my home.
-- Denise Powell --

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