We were dwellers in the wildwood ...

I've forgotten where I am said one of the women - 

We were weaving yellow and black willow whips into spirals - 

The supple wood stained our fingers - 

We ignored the rain, shaping the willow - 

Behind us were old apple trees - their branches were bent low with the memory of fragrant harvests - 

Slowly, I made my obelisk, binding the slender poles together - 

Our hands gained knowledge as we worked - 

The willow came from the Somerset Levels - 

We were reconnected to an earlier time - 

We had no need of I phones - 

Our finger tips felt the heart beat of the willow - 

We were dwellers in the wildwood - 

13.00

Saturday 9 April 2016

The Creative Garden

Wareham

Dorset