Branches stretch on a Winter morn
Cold and empty, naked, forlorn.
Longing for the Spring to arrive
So fruit and blossom can survive.
Birds hang their beds upon the boughs
Of tolerant trees that help somehow.
A giant friend that stands so still
Through wind and hailstones, until
Summer bends her head with charm
So leaves grow thick on hanging arms.
Of trees that are wide and tall
While some remain spindly, small.
And nature shines with great delight
Admiring such a wondrous sight.
Trees that are continually on show
Bending with pride because they know
The world without them would be quite bare
Our breath is pure while they are there.
Linda Hurdwell has been a widow for 5 years. She has two adult sons. Living in the English countryside, she takes her dog, Bessie, for a daily walks and that's where many of her poems and stories are born. She has always loved writing and has a few short stories published. Although now a pensioner, she enjoys working with adults with learning disabilities and running a mencap social club once a week. Her hobbies are writing, tap dancing, and going to the theatre or cinema with my friends.