Cuckoo’s Tears

do not cry and spoil
such beauty – you will never fade
into darkness and its glades
as long as there is the moonlight,
so weep no more,

nor cry for the death
of dew drops,
lying broken; coursing

Houses for Eeyore

Down the hill from Butser
in the bright sunshine
to the ancient woodland there
heading for a climb
A forest that has been here
for a millennia at least
providing a dark canopy
atop a visual feast