These are the brightest corridors that wind around each other
White and blinding and filled with so much joy it could hurt
Fell through the storm that was waiting behind the last door
Twisted so tight that it felt like the warmest bedclothes
And a dreamed lover's embrace
And the safest place to get lost in.
Yew tree roots started to show and the shadows of its branches lengthened;
Evening of my first most longest journey;
Walking towards oncoming vehicles and suddenly wakening and realising
That nothing was halting my feet

Willow, willow, why do you weep? The rain is here,
The storm at its hardest just as its end approaches,
Weep less and not have to feed thine own love no more;
The yew tree saplings all have moved away; their roots up-plucked and
Away they whisked

So that left here is but an apple orchard in the sunshine
Fruits and flowers battered and lashed
And littered 'cross the ground
But are the trees not yet still standing?