A wild and spreading walnut tree
Stands proudly by my drive
Some lower limbs are stiff and dead
But she’s very much alive
In our cold climate nuts are small
(Though the squirrel doesn’t mind)
But if the summer’s hot and long
There’s bounty for all mankind
Our tree is a great mother
Those nuts are trees in waiting
Spread all around my garden
With the squirrel facilitating
I often espy a sapling
Proud pennant leaves upthrust
But if I leave it in the ground
My plants will be non-plussed
I feel a sad and guilty pang
As I tear out such babies
So I’ve started putting them in pots
And now they’re little trees
Where oh where shall we find a home
For my tiny walnut grove?
Who will appreciate their worth
This leafy treasure trove?
Stuart came to my rescue
‘They are exactly what we need!’
So I drove them down to Brighton
And now they’re Woods for Trees!
Poem by Eleanor Holloway
