A copse of tree poems

As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
(Macbeth, Act 5)

imageForget Great Birnam wood coming to Dunsianane, the tree-poems are coming into Benmore Botanic Garden thick and fast today. In fact, I’d go as far as to say I’m gathering a forest of tree-poems today. And fine, strong specimens they all are. Please keep them coming.

Here are a copse of tree-poems written by Sally in Norfolk. You’ll see one of them mentions Piers Patrick, a wealthy American who planted Benmore’s Redwood Avenue in 1863, a year after he bought the estate. Piers Patrick also extended the boundary of the garden along Loch Eck and added the impressive, baronial tower to Benmore house.




I asked a child to draw a tree.
From the cluttered playroom, he
looked out the window, crossed a long perpendicular line
with a short horizontal. Not like this, he said, but it was wood. It could have been.


Here are some words that exist to put trees in your head.
Holloway Road on a No 17 –  not a paper world, but bricks and stone
lined with sycamore, limes and London plane – a solace to busyness.
If all of them were bread and cheese, it wouldn’t be the same.


Brothers and sisters was how Piers Patrick saw them,
picturing the massive avenue – giganteums
he planted in memory of what we are,
we were, and will be. Avatars.


One thought on “A copse of tree poems

  1. Pingback: HERE | booksbyjudith

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