Hainault Forest Website

  Hainault January 1st 2007

A poem by Sarah White

  HOME PAGE      POEM - Get down to Hainault Forest      POEM - It's Wet       POEM -  Reflections    POETRY PAGE  POEM Thick-thighed beetle

The forest is still, there’s no one around,

Not even the gent with the old greyhound.

Walkers and riders saw in the New Year

Now cosy and dozy, not active here.

I’m alone

But – can I hear breathing, or was it a snore?

A whisper? a  giggle?  No just ignore

Then on Camelot path from a hornbeam tree

I see a grim gargoyle leering at me.

It watches and smiles as I walk slowly past,

“Watch out for my friends” I’m sure it just laughed.

I find ‘Witches butter’ on the forest floor,

  Did the coven have a party the night before?

Fresh from the Ash there’s  King Alfred’s cakes

They look a bit burnt, couldn’t he bake?

Chicken of the Woods and Honey fungus pud

Helvella snacks, I bet they were good.

Rose hip syrup, strong nettle tea,

Acorn coffee all alcohol free!

For over 80’s (witches take a long time to grow up) Wild service beer,

Sloe gin,  Birch sap wine, they were drunk I fear.

I hear wailing and screeching  from up in the trees,

Branches chafing or cries on the breeze?

Is the party over, have they all got sore heads?

Before I get chased, I’m going back to bed

Gargoyle !!

Helvella Helvella crispa

© Sarah White 2007

Photos ©Sarah White