In The Stump of The Old Tree, Poem By : Hugh Sykes Davies
The old Tree at Coolagh, county Kilkenny
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
In The Stump of The Old Tree
By Hugh Sykes Davies
In the stump of the old tree, where the heart has rotted out, there is a hole the length of a man’s arm, and a dank pool at the bottom of it where the rain gathers, and the old leaves turn into lacy skeletons. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees, where the hearts have rotted out, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and dank pools at the bottom where the rain gathers and old leaves turn to lace, and the beak of a dead bird gapes like a trap. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees with rotten hearts, where the rain gathers and the laced leaves and the dead bird like a trap, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and in every crevice of the rotten wood grow weasel’s eyes like molluscs, their lids open and shut with the tide. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the rain gathers and the trapped leaves and the beak and the laced weasel’s eyes, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and at the bottom a sodden bible written in the language of rooks. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are holes the length of a man’s arm where the weasels are trapped and the letters of the rook language are laced on the sodden leaves, and at the bottom there is a man’s arm. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are deep holes and dank pools where the rain gathers, and if you ever put your hand down to see, you can wipe it in the sharp grass till it bleeds, but you’ll never want to eat with it again.
Last night I walked along the river, after the rain – Images and a Poem
Sunset along the river Suir, County Tipperary
Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
Sometimes when I am out walking and taking pictures, I also use my phone to jot down some words then later use these to write a Poem.
I feel that words and poems – along with images are connected with one another in a big way. I love to share both here on this blog and I often share poems from people who share their work on poetry web sites, matching them to what I feel are related images I have taken.
This time the post is mixing my own Poem and Images from an evening walk along the river Suir, after a rain storm at the start of June.
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Last night I Walked along the river after the rain
Last night in my dreams along the river I walked,
it rained and rained, The floods of June.
There will always be sunshine after the rain
Perhaps I walked , perhaps even ran,
Towards the Setting evening Sun.
.
It lights up the river, I see every rushing and flowing drop,
The warmth from its light can calm every dreaming fear.
After it sets below the trees,
my dreams much deeper,
still linger throughout the night,
But suddenly vanish at dawn’s early light.
Poem and images : Nigel Borrington
Nigel Borrington 
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