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
