Magical Wood by Bernie Jordan

Woodland full of magic wands,
What magic’s there for me?
I give you an ivy cloak,
evergreen with flowers in stars,
warmth for your wintry heart.
Birds huddle in its midst,
Spiders weave their webs,
ladybirds crouch in crevices,
till spring arrives at last.
I take a piece from the woodland floor,
smooth wood beneath rotting roots.
Shapes emerge in tangled intricacy,
formed by twists and turns of life.
TV screen frustration
U-turns, lockdowns, risk and threat,
blotted out by light and shade,
captured in patterns of growth.
A piece of wood within my grasp,
Magical as a wand.