Winter Poem

Standing beneath the brown leafed oak tree
Stand and Be
Stand and See
Stand and Imagine
that for centuries it has always been thus
And even on such snowy days
of sub zero temperatures in double figures
Nothing changes in Nature.
The little Jenny Wren called Trogladytes Trogladytes
searches for insects in the dark cavernous branches.
The long tailed tits chase and chatter endlessly
looking for nourishment to plump their small ball bodies.
Animals are busy trying to keep alive.
The cockerel calls from way across the snowy meadows.
Praise the sunlight.
Here and there a dog barks noisily.
A vulgar cry.
All is silent and still but on the move.
The sun ascends to raise the temperature
and cause the beauty to melt
to disappear into rivulets and streams
which in turn feed the river waters
and flow in a different way.
The icy particles sparkle in the sunlight
like a sequinned silvery-white strapless cocktail evening dress,
chic and cheeky.
A field twinkles with yellow stars on it's white cloth
as if to mimic the hundreds and thousands of lights
that shimmer and shine on an artificial L.E.D. lit silver Christmas tree
that in turn tried to capture and emulate
the memory of such beauty witnessed today.
The light is bright, it shuts out dark.
Witness the many tracks of fauna
that came at night searching for forage.
Here a deer clambered over the dry stone wall,
leapt to the ground and trundled through the vineyard.
Here two deer walked side by side in safety from the hunters.
Here I walk in my wellington boot tracks of yesterday
so as not to disturb more of the unspoilt layer of frozen waters on either side of the lane.
Sing praise to being alive.