Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven
Rabindranath Tagore
Poems to the Bruce Castle, or Tottenham, Oak
Of this tree Abe Gibson
The Tottenham Oak Cecilia Strachen
Ode from the Oak Elizabeth Adams
Of this tree Abe Gibson
The Tottenham Oak Cecilia Strachen
Ode from the Oak Elizabeth Adams
Haringey in Bloom
I had dashed off a short poem for the creative writing competition section of ‘Haringey in Bloom 2004’, whose theme was ‘What’s in your garden?’ A few months later, I was surprised to be asked to the prize giving social evening, and assumed that all the entrants had been invited. I was even more surprised to win! My poetry writing has since improved, but the sentiments remain exactly as they were when I wrote: What's in your garden? 'Anything colourful costing few pence, In a row of pots where an old shed stood, Whose door now fills a hole in the fence, And one sycamore tree by way of a wood. But computers and rush-hour still make me long For our little green space and the blackbird's song.' Elizabeth |
A Poem does not grow by jerks. As trees in Spring produce a new ring of tissue,
so does every poet put forth a fresh outlay of stuff at the same season.
Wilfred Owen
so does every poet put forth a fresh outlay of stuff at the same season.
Wilfred Owen
Send in your poems about trees in Tottenham
