The Village – A Story in Eight Pieces

VIII. King George’s Oak

Abundant the Acorns, cached by the Jay,
While well furrowed Bark keeps fungus at bay.

Cork’s from an oak, it’s preserving our wine,
The Dove’s in her nest, a love bird divine.

Look there’s our Ellen, snuggling her swain,
Ripe for the Fuck, that they’ll soon entertain.

Old Billy Goat’s browsing anything low,
Turning Herbs to manure, and helping things grow.

Ever green is the Ivy, hiding a drey,
While the old Jay’s still caching away.

Katt is the cat who’s stalking the Jay,
While thousands of Larvae are munching all day.

Growing the Moths which make food for the Bat,
And leaving the Nuts which make Squirrel all fat.

Over the Orchard, grow apples to munch,
By agéd Piers Ploughman, who’s eating his lunch.

Pretty’s the Quince, with pink flowers in Spring,
While later a Robin Christmas greetings will bring.

Slyly the Stoat’s on the lookout for prey,
While circles of Toadstools, grow in the hay.

Shady the Umbra, we all sit beneath,
Not knowing the Vixen’s her den underneath.

Wispy the Wool, from the sheep of the croft,
While woody old Xylem, sends water aloft.

Here there’s a Yew, that great tree of old,
Protecting our Zzzzleeps, more precious than gold.