Many NaPoWriMo participants have been very good about using the prompts. I haven’t, though I often seem to move in the general direction in the next day or so – tempted by all the poems others have posted. I have managed to write at least a poem a day so far, so that’s a Good Thing (unless you don’t approve of poetry).
Today started with a lovely long walk around the Old Hollow area of Malvern, rolling in the damp grass (that was Kass, not me), admiring the bluebells (that was me, not Kass) and enjoying exploration (both of us). Then back for gardening and other *stuff*.
Today’s poem comes from an old oak tree above Old Hollow playing fields. Once upon a time, a seat was placed around it. Over decades the tree trunk has expanded to grow around the metal bars of the seat. Perhaps in a century or so the seat’s remains will be entirely within the tree.
[Written for NaPoWriMo, this poem’s a keeper so off the blog for a polish and some TLC. Apologies for the hole.]