Welcome to this new section where we will publish submitted poems. A big thank you to Gary who has kindly provided the first poem.
The poem is written about Love essentially. About a meeting of minds and hearts without borders or language restrictions that can overcome people who walk through the park and feel the power of Nature all around them.
It mentions the trees that have seen and heard many a ‘secret’ over so many years. Yet they will always hold those secrets within the park. Like muted whispers.
There is of course a nod to Dylan Thomas as the poet’s words and thoughts being born in the park.
Finally whether Love stays or goes it matters not to the eternity of the trees. Concealing word and thought entwined around branches that echo silently forever with all that has ever been said within the park.
CWMDONKIN REMEMBERED
By Gary Alan Motley
No wonder in the feet of Man
To take his stride through Uplands doors
The hills they choke the air from all
Greet iron portals fenced in fours
Open but a pace away
To worlds anew and never seen
Closed they stand defiant dark
Cloaking all that lives in green
Leaves of whisper never heard
Drop like rain upon the stone
An autumn path lies golden brown
And knotted hedgerows overgrown
Through the gates of bordered tongue
Rising language falling tall
Hands are held beneath the yews
That form the mix of country wall
Revealing nothing and yet they know
They’ve seen and heard the poets song
Words and thoughts were born in here
This womb of Nature breathing strong
Far off at the compass point
Swinging downward only south
A breeze comes on and sends its chill
With winter’s vision shivered mouth
Glistened eyes set aglow
The mail of summer posted smart
The smoke of carbon burnt in pain
Hidden corners of the heart
Of ash it’s seen as not a sign
But souls they laugh and play their game
In trees of secrets eternal held
And spoken words repeat the same
Joyous in this park of Love
Too many walk and few return
But minds made up to work the same
Will only render hearts to yearn
To pledge of days of future words
Spoken that they hold no fears
True or ill the echo gone
Now only trees to face the years.