Leaves unfurl and block the view,                                                     the sky is shaded out,                                                                           green and orange, and yellow too,                                                    they cast their shade about.

Atop a hill, those huge trees grew,                                                     their roots spread wide no doubt,                                                           and round their branches… true                                                       delight I see the fields sprout.

Now came old autumn, when leaves flew,                                       they were madly strewn about,                                                          the world is seen as if anew,                                                                and “slumber trees!” I shout.

I’m not good at rhyming. I prefer blank verse, but I thought I would have a go at making a more traditional poem.

“View” and “Out” are such simple words…you can probably think of far more rhymes for them than I can. The poem is based on a visit to the Dorothy Clive Garden today. The leaves are starting to fill in the gaps between the branches and twigs, and some views will disappear until the leaves fall again in October or November, when the world beyond them will be revealed again. I think you can see three counties, Staffordshire, Cheshire and Shropshire can be seen from the top of the quarry garden there.

It’s a beautiful place if you feel like visiting it.