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Poems

Two Tree Poems

24/8/2016

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The first poem was written by my grandmother. My cousin and I read it at her funeral in 2015. 
The second poem I wrote at my parents' house in France.
​The photos are of the two ancient oak trees near Glastonbury Tor.
The Great Oak

Great Oak, I wonder what stories you
Could tell if you could speak?
Beneath your branches many feet have trod
And many a secret shared as well.

How many years have you been standing still,
Since you were from a little acorn grown?
How many birds have nestled in your
 arms 
And how many squirrels will?

Nearly a century I have stood
Two Great Wars were fought
Many a time I have heard tell
The world would be better and people good.
​

Yes many a family of birds have come
And many a squirrel too
But best of all I have shared the sun
And wind and rain and you.
 

Margery Greenough. 1974.

Picture
Picture

​The Tree


Why do we believe
We are better than the tree?
With her toes deep in the soil
And her eyes up to the sun,
She knows her place,
Between heaven and earth.
She knows her purpose,
And achieves it every day,
With her toes deep in the ground,
And her eyes towards the clouds.

Amy Lou Martin. 2005.
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Little Bird

23/9/2015

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Picture
23rd September 2015. Chiang Mai.
​Little Bird outside my window, enclosed in caging,
Around you all ignore your incessant chirping,
Or if they hear, they find it sweet and charming,
For they would not keep you,
if they knew what you were saying.

Do you think that a person, like this would be trapped?
Then it hit me, hard, like my face had been slapped,
That millions of humans like this are encaged,
And how they must be roaring, screaming, enraged.

But those who keep them do not listen,
Lock them up tight, and do not see,
Eyes covered
Ears blocked
Minds stopped
Hands clasped
Hearts closed
Spirits dead. or dying.

Just a bird, just a bird, just a bird,
Just an animal, just like you,
Wings clipped
Voice silenced
Hopes dashed
Dreams broken
Freedom taken
Life stolen and sold.

One day a friend sits upon your cage and is saying:
''Are you not flying, little bird? Are you captured?
Maybe I can do something to help, or at least I can try,
So together, you and I, away we may fly.''

And I know, little bird, your friend is wise in his thinking,
For he knows he is not free while you are enslaved,
No creature is free while one bird cannot soar,
While one fish can't swim, one lion can't roar.

And so, right now, I am taking a vow,
Someday I shall be that friend to someone, somehow.

While this poem I was writing,
Night fell, and little bird stopped tweeting,
Somewhere, out there, you are now sleeping,
Out in the dark, your heart is still beating.
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articles and photographs copyright: Amy Lou Martin
Photos of Amy Lou taken by Maya Claudia Ferretti