In memory of my neighbours tree, cut down 22 January 2023.

This morning I woke to the sound of chainsaws,

A harsh and grating sound.

I watched the sweeping branches,

Dancing all around.

For my neighbours beautiful apple tree

Was under an attack

With horror and dread I watched and waited

Afraid it won’t bounce-back.

And now this evening my heart is broken,

For all that we have lost.

The old apple tree is no more,

It’s life has been cut short

No more shall it’s boughs fill with fruit

Nor will the birds within cavort.

The twisted branches, fur-lined with lichen

Have left the blue-sky nude.

The blackbird pair have lost their home,

The tits have lost their food.

Now that the garden stalwart is gone,

The neighbourhood is more dull.

Spring will be devoid of floral scent,

Summer silent of it’s rustle.

Autumn’s harvest shall no more be enjoyed,

And the sparkle gone from Winter’s tussle

Fingers lined with frost and dew

Will no longer twinkle in the morn

The goldfinch, blue tit and blackbird choir

Will be that little bit more forlorn.