THE BLUE CARPET

THE BLUE CARPET

Mrs Oak was fed up and needed a change
The wood had woke early and it felt a bit strange
Mrs Silver-Birch bathed in the early spring light
And she had to agree something was not quite right
The footpath was barren though it was still green
As they both rustled leaves in the chill of the scene
What we need is some colour a reason to look
Claimed young Aspen and Rowan when twigs gently shook

Where is he today? The king of the glade
Five hundred years old Mrs Holly conveyed
Oh he’s sowing his acorns of that I’ve no doubt
And I’m stuck in this forest we never go out
The forest seems drab and its colour we need
Yet the king of the trees is out sowing seed
Have him put down some roots, keep him right here
Mrs Holly put forward with a spiky dark sneer

The year clock was ticking the snow came and went
A zephyr was wandering the trees branches bent
The clouds in formation were shedding soft rain
And a canopy sheltered the ground just the same
No one noticed his coming the return of the king
As he put forth the edict where choral birds sing
On the floor of the forest where the sun’s fingers play
Mrs Oak had a new carpet of bluebells in a day

JP.