Member Poem

Whispers from emboldened sycamore,
It willingly disperses wild leaf secrets,
to us creatures in autumn phase,
Branches creak but somehow never break,
despite the brittle onslaught,
from callous human and raging gusts,
from an ever changing volatile environment,
Sagacious  watchdogs for all seasons,
whose blurred edges wilt,
with every global warming,
or zero arctic plummet,
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
surreal reckless slideshows,
sideshow upon a wider world,
that’s scrambling to catchup.
Yet these stoic trees endure,
our wanton disregard so bravely,
the foiled attempts at damage limitation,
those madcap retro schemes,
that flop like couch potatoes on a sofa,
Tall and proud they stand,
with stout forbearance,
Why not give your nearest tree, 
 a well-earned hug right this minute