Butleigh - Wassail
A graveyard of trees

Bare trees whisper like skeletons on the move
Some are old and knobbly
Others young and smooth
Its colder than a graveyard
There is smoke in the air
They're burning all the cuttings
Of the trees that are so bare
A freezing wind begins to blow
The trees sound like ghosts as they creak
Trees may drop branches
And can condemn you to endless sleep.
-- Annabel Dukes --


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 --


The Winter Orchard
Helicopters gliding over
The rows of trees
All covered in lichen
Apple pie in the kitchen

On the trees there is a hard
And rough outer layer
But a smooth and crispy inner layer

As the clock strikes ten
The church bells ring
Turning from side to side
To make the chiming sound.

Rabbits hopping along
As if they are in a world of their own.
As winter ends the birds come.
-- Jack Gane --


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.
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 --


I look out from the Tor
And see a little orchard
Look at the smoke of an old tree burning
Look at the mistletoe, copper yellow mistletoe
Look at the patches of yellow grass
Look at the fungi rings around the trees
Look at the apples squashed to the core
Hear the birds twittering
Hear the trees rustling, bustling
See no more apples
See no more blossom
Look its now winter.
Feel the winter breeze.
-- Luke Holman --



 Home |  Contact |  Butleigh Primary |  Brent Knoll |  Creech St. Michael |  Kingsbury Episcopi |  Hugh Sexey
Please contact us with questions or comments regarding this site.
Copyright © 2002-2018 Website Administrator.  All Rights Reserved.
Rubicon Computer Services - Web Design Site Designed by