My Suffolk, Your Suffolk - 'Wood' by Robert Kensit, poem by Richard Stewart

Freston Wood

There is a faint smell of smoke
Coming from the row of cottages
Whose gardens end at the wood’s edge:
It masks the scent of the bluebells.
To savour their delicacy and the
Pungency of the white blaze of ramsons
Creeping up the wood from the
Damper soil close to the brook
We should have come late or very early.

No matter, the sight is enough:
Vast drifts of bluebells hugging
The contours of this up and down wood,
Purple under canopies of new leaves,
Almost lilac where the bright sun
Spangles and shafts through to the ground.

We pass two elderly ladies who talk
As if in a vaulted cathedral and
All around there is birdsong,
Of nightingales unseen in a thicket,
Chiffchaff, willow warbler and a great
Spotted woodpecker echoing on a dead bough.

Here there is a sense of what it means
To be English, part of a vast continuity
That also embraces the concrete pillars
Of a distant Orwell bridge
Scuttling with scarab traffic and the
Tall monumental and twisted trunks
Of the oaks, and the bluebells,
The overwhelming presence of the bluebells,
Drifting deep into the memory.


Richard Stewart

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