Protection by Beech trees, their roots
watered with wine, their leaves
a glossary of rhyming words.
Protection by Birch, the white lady
of the woods, her sky-ladder
intensified by winter dreams.
Protection by Quicken Tree, the red one,
holding its oracular branches
to draw myself up and over the wall.
Touch wood. Pick up sticks
for locating metal, water, boundaries,
this path that takes me up again.
Protection by the broad Oak, who speaks
slowly, rustling his messages
as the sun opens a door into the hillside.
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login
details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are already a member and have not received your login details, please email us,
including your name and address, and we will supply you with details of how to access the archived material.
If you are not a member and would like to enjoy the growing online archive of Stand Magazine
, containing poems, articles, prose and reviews,
why not subscribe
to the website today?