The Greenwood Workshop ...

I slammed shut the door of the red Peugeot, to walk uphill through slender beech trees -

From the to time I left the track, to scramble upwards through wild garlic - 

The air was still and warm - I imagined myself in a remnant of the wildwood -

I remembered pictures I'd seen of woodwoses - the light all around me was greenish, full of old dreams - 

In a fold of the hillside, I found the Greenwood Workshop - 

A blackened iron kettle steamed over smouldering logs - 

Wood shavings covered the ground - there were two pole lathes - 

A bold dog kept guard as we approached - 

I admired the stools and chairs fashioned from green wood - 

Toby told us how he'd trained his horse to haul felled trees - 

She is an Ardenne - her spirit is good -

I said to Toby you seem so content - here in this wood - happy - at ease - 

Toby smiled - I am he said - but I must earn my living - 

3.30

May 31 2014