Firestone

In Firestone where oak meets pine A woodland that is so divine, Its pathway crazed and strewn with cone The ground is dry and hard as stone, With roots exposed along the track And bending like a serpent's back, And twisting as they fall and rise A tangled web on pathway lies. The ferns so green along the way The wildest rose in full display, Its tiny petals are in flower A splash of pink beneath the bower, So cool the soft caressing breeze As ivy twists around the trees, The nettles growing in the shade Now stand like soldiers on parade. Beside the wood lies Wootton Creek A haven where the ducks do seek, For food upon the tidal plain They walk its length time and again, A heron fixed in sedge and reed And waiting for a chance to feed, On fish that swim as shallows fill Upon the bank remains so still. On muddy flats the footprints show The sunlight shines as waters flow, And ripples sparkle on the sea That's moving so majestically, The tide is growing ever higher And so it slowly floods the mire, Relentlessly it carries on Until the muddy plains have gone.