Silence 'neath the Trees

Silence ’neath the Trees


Dappled sunshine flecks the ground,
Moving shades of green and brown,
Writhing smoke from natures shade
Billows up around the glade.

The fallen leaves,
decaying, dead,
Feed green shoots new
From hidden bed.
Yet little joy they give to me,
As tears from bough and leaf of tree
Help provide their life within.
For I have seen them all before, and know
That I will see them yet again
Before the rush of dizzy blood
Obscures and clouds my brain.

Music drowning out the breath
Of stirring wind that brings the sound
That often has been praised aloud.
The sound of birds throughout the wood,
Some trills that sound surpassing sweet
Yet ruined by the rush and roar
Of motor car, some near, some far.
There is no peace, no silence here;
The birds are whispers in the trees
As lorries strip off all the leaves
Of beech and elm and ancient oak
That stood e’er roads and lights awoke.

But still the roots so deep and strong
Far, far beneath awake in song
The clash of steel, the screams of death,
A hopeless hope on face forlorn,
Far from home and country torn
To die like this on English soil.

Bloodied hands and burning pain,
I turn away and turn again
To look into those eyes once clear
Now clouded by the pain and fear
Of mortal life, but soon to rest.
An empty skull, a shred of skin
Clings vainly still, though life within
Had long ago departed.


The ash and dust of many years
Watered by the flowing tears,
Of man and beast and tree,
Though never yet by me.
Forgotten by the pass of time,
Though I that looked upon that face
Still see too clear the turmoil there
And turn and try to make escape
For fear of fear itself laid bare.

And I would tell a thousand lies
To hide the secret of those eyes;
The stab of pain, of much regret,
A flaming sword of accusation
Pointing still across the years.

Yet what can I reply?

The moving shades draw near to dusk
And in the twilight shades of men
That once there were and yet shall be
Come flowing round to strangle me.

Dappled moonlight flecks the ground,
Moving shades of grey and brown,
As dust and ash of all the years
Is scattered by my falling tears.