Poem, Poetry

Matthew Walsh


Sing me a sweet song
Little forest tree runner
Dance on my branches

Ring me a clear song
As you creep to the sunshine.
Sing me your treasure.

Plunder the bounty
From my deep folded linings
Cling to me tightly

Weave me a word-spell
With your beak sharp curve-needle
Thread me a love song.

Stitch me a sleep song
A white breasted lullaby
Soft in my dreaming

Wrap me in woodland
In brown leaves and deep beech mast.
Sing gold and glitter.

Matthew Walsh, doctor, runner, lover of words and music, nature and wild places.

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