Myrtle poem

Apollo and Daphne
by Tiepolo (detail)

Trees that take quasi-human form and humans who morph into trees – mythology and literature have enough of these to form a fair-sized forest, from the dryads (wood nymphs) of classical mythology to Tolkien’s ents.

Of Trebah’s many trees, the myrtles seem to me most human. And in one version of the Greek myth of Myrrha, it is a myrtle into which the fugitive Myrrha is transformed (other versions have it as a myrrh tree). This poem takes that myth as its starting point.

Myrtle

Your lean trunk twisted contrapposto,

limbs flung forward and back to display

their sculpted muscle, inviting caress –

bark soft as skin but cool to the touch,

on the cusp of mortality. Did you stumble

through this undergrowth as Myrrha fleeing

her father’s sword, dark hair snagging on briars,

clothes shredded by thorns? Feel as in a dream

your stiffening legs, toes rooting in earth,

his shamed breath panting behind you as sap

spread like anaesthetic through your veins?

But when he blundered blindly past you,

on into the wood, and you knew that time

had stopped, was it dismay you felt or rapture?

                                                                        Tom Scott

Blooming Poetry workshop

On Saturday, the poet Moira Andrew and I ran a workshop for children in the Vinery at Trebah.

It was a lovely group, and we had a lot of fun. Moira has worked with children a great deal - and indeed written several brilliant books about how to inspire them to write.

Within a couple of minutes she had their imaginations sparking, and over the morning they all created beautiful tree poems (and drawings) as well as riddle poems about small objects they'd found on our forays out into the garden.

Being a lively bunch, the children were full of questions and observations about things they'd noticed. But for surprisingly long stretches they were amazingly quiet as they focused intensely on their writing. And the results were stunning - you can see a couple of the pieces they created below.

There's more about Moira and her books - for grown-ups as well as for children - at her website. I'm looking forward to doing more workshops with her at Trebah next year.

Tree poem by Clemmy

Tree poem by Iris

A puzzle poem

Here's a puzzle of a poem. Can you guess what the tree is?

a

trophy tree 

named like a parlour game or sideshow

 ladies and gents, step up

and

 behold the fiercest known specimen in captivity!

see its armature of spiked steel leaves

its

 crocodilian hide, thick enough to withstand the volcanic fires

 that scorch its mountain home, its cone-grenades primed

to

detonate every three years – yes, you may touch

but have a care, madam, have a care!

its

seeds so scattered form the staple diet of the Pehuenche tribe

of the high Andes, for whom it is a totem

its

fossil forebears flourished for millennia in primordial forests

whose other scaly denizens it long outlived

and

for

all

we

know

 it

will

see

us

out

too

                                      Tom Scott