The Whimsical Wood

In the whimsical wood

Is where the dove cot stood

Away from light and power and Magic

It grew too cold and soon was tragic

Then the whimsical woodsman came along

In his way with an axe

He sang his song

And levelled the trees which had stood there long

And let the light shine in

And the dovecot stood

In the whimsical wood

Just waiting for a dove

To fly down from above

And give it a sign it was true and good

Finally one day when the woodsman was asleep

Down flew a pair of doves

The dovecot to keep

And they made their nests

With a ‘coo’ and ‘cheap’, ‘cheap’

Gently rolling their soft vowel sounds

To the woodsman asleep

Inside his dream he was wide awake

Aboard a great Ark, like Noah did make

And along from the skies came a wandering dove

Who dropped an olive twig in his palm,

And spoke of love

All around him was a flood

Like around the dovecot stood the wood

And he knew not just about what business he should

Unless it was to speak of love

And as he did the waters receded

Just as the trees that once he had seeded

And his Ark it reached the land

Well then he awoke from his own dream

To find who had spoke, was a dove on a beam

Coo-cooing here and there

They flew in a pair

But startled when he moved

And flew into air

Come back, come back he pleaded and pleaded

But his cries they went unheeded

So he sat back down in a torpor

And stewed like a tea bag left too long in the water

Finally he grew black and bitter

What need have I of trees?

Without love nor Birds nor bees

I may live in my wood of high walls

And if another high tree falls

It will not be by my hand at all

I will live here in the dovecot

Penthouse Quarter

So he laid down his axe

And began to relax

Inside the walls of his new dovecot home

That evening on the breeze

He thought he smelt the smell of the seas

He saw the rustle of the leaves

Then in the dovecot’s eves

Spied his first love

The dovecot owner’s daughter

‘Hey there come down’

He coaxed her

She gave a coo, fluttered and flew

And he saw it was a dove

Returned not the daughter

Though sad, yet relieved

To find hope in the eves

He fed the little bird some grain

And it was bad he believed

To build high walls of pride made of leaves

Just to hide and cover up his pain

So he resolved the next morning

Without further warning

To break the spell of longing

On the whimsical wood

He took his axe and his belongings

And set out through the thronging

To carve out a new pathway made for good

The going it was hard

Often times dangerous

At night he stood guard

For wolves or bears, quite treacherous

Underfoot sometimes rock or stone

From the sky sometimes thunder

Rain or blistering Sun

Down valley and up hill

He used his woodland skill

To make a path to freedom

From the whimsical wood kingdom

Past the hives of honeyed bee-dom

To the land of shrilling shrill

Once his path was made

He then became afraid

That, others might tread down his road

But determined not to be a toad

He would carry the load

And deal with the consequences

Be they light or shade

One day while he was chopping

Near a time he thought of stopping

A lovely maiden upon him strode

She looked like sunshine popping

Through the leaves as they are dropping

And his heart it gave a coo like in a dove’s abode

She smiled and sat down near him

He stopped when she began to sing

A song of love I have been told

And from that day his heartache mended

No more high walls of Pride to be offended

What’s more the doves came back

To their woodland hold