Category Archives: biology
The Flower Opens
The Flower Opens
Each morning the sun rises a little earlier with a greeting
Sunshine streaks through my window for a first meeting
That wonderful warmth as I arise from my sleeping
The lawn from winter’s rest is now waking
Signs of new life are ever in the making
Beauty and joy are there for the taking
Yellow daffodil is pushing through from the bud
No longer do I walk the patch of squelching mud
Beyond the canal I see the cows chewing cud
Early snowdrops have bid goodbye
Tulips opening to catch the eye
In the shade a blue anemone I espy
Cherry trees are loaded with buds ready to burst
Bramley too and I wonder which will be first
April showers will end their growing thirst
Flowers declare new life will come
Pollination’s wonder has just begun
I admire this beauty beneath the sun
David Hopcroft March 2022
Changes: Return To Nature
Changes : Return to Nature
Such a pretty little garden, so dainty and so neat
A drive of black asphalt with a patio of concrete
There’s a deck in the backyard
With a massive barbecue
Burning charcoal by the kilo
And the plastic potted shrubs are new
Another fifty all alike, making up the street
The residents say it’s a contemporary view
Imagining the changes if everyone were to leave
Dandelions pushing up through the drive
Yellow flowers with pollen for insects to retrieve
Honey bees returning once more from the hive
Cracks in the patio herald the returning dock
Metal railings on the fence have turned to rust
Only the plastic potted plants remain
A fading memory of those lifeless times
Moss upon the roof will loosen tiles
Vines will start to climb the crumbling walls
A curious vixen decides to explore inside
Makes her den within the painted halls
Rooks upon the rafters roost together
A mole is burrowing beneath the lawn
The grass snake retreats against the weather
Robins take shelter against the storm
Pesticides and fertilizer no longer are applied
Life is returning where once life had died
The Homeowners’ Association had lied
For there is beauty in this new scene
Where once centipede grass had been
Hummingbird no longer needs the sugared bowl
An armadillo peeps out from his excavated hole
A restoration of an earth that humans nearly stole
Copyright: David Hopcroft February 2022
Woodland Music
Woodland Music
Seeking shelter from the Autumn breeze
A sanctuary I reach between the trees
At first only the sound of the rustling leaves
Looking to the sky where treetops sway
Rays of sun filter through upon my foray
As frisky squirrels now emerge for play
Squeaks and croaks might signal their delight
Upon such matters my discussion is not erudite
And could this be playfulness in their fight
They bark as the hawk flies overhead
A signal to warn of the predator they dread
Watching is needed even as they are fed
A weakened trunk yields with a moan
Comes crashing to the ground and lies alone
Narrowly avoiding the sculpture of stone
Now the siskin sounds a cheerful note
Of joy that emanates from throat
Whilst eyes dart around wary of the hungry stoat
Whose hiss suggest that of my presence she is aware
In the distance I can hear the hunter’s horn blare
Above I seek the cooing pigeon with my stare
Badgers and owl in silence spend their day
Along the bridle path I hear the stallion neigh
So much music is hereabouts but I must away
Copyright: David Hopcroft October 2020
The Wood carver’s Love
The Wood Carver’s Love
His eyes roamed eagerly over the fallen form
There was beauty still to be revealed within his mind
Freshly cut and felled to now lie still upon the lawn
Cuts began to form as his project was designed
The chainsaw kicked into life and now the great cuts were made
Sawdust scattered upon the grass as her outline was revealed
A short break as he took his tea beneath the chestnut’s shade
Then further cuts exposed the form his mind concealed
Now the roughness of her surface was smoothed by plane
Checks made to ensure her legs were even as she stood
Her beauty to be further shown as to his hand the chisel came
Chips gouged out to reveal a face within the wood
From the bench the form of Our Lady arose
Rough hewn at first then her finer features exposed
The smile upon her lips and her shapely nose
Where would this craftsmanship be reposed
Our Lady for his lady was his clear intent
His love for her shown by the tools he used
Where she might sit in rest and content
Nature’s fallen trunk exposed but not abused
The bench before her cottage doth now stand
Her body seated as in her journal she will write
The pen moving carefully and slowly in her hand
A fallen trunk reused for her delight
Copyright: David Hopcroft October 2020
Windy Day: An unwritten sermon
Windy Day: An unwritten sermon
The slender willow bends to take the strain
An apparent fragility that hides a greater strength
As in bending with the wind it seems to yield
Yet still remains so firmly rooted in the ground
As I watch its beauty swaying to and fro
Thirty feet or more that has withstood the storms
Carrying a message for you and I
Beyond the embankment stands the oak
A sturdy trunk that has stood ninety years or more
Refusing to yield to the storms and gales
A symbol of defiance that will not move
Yet the branches heavy in leaf take the force
In not yielding to this force some may be broken
Like the willow the oak may have spoken
With some shedding of the leaves with each gust
Occasionally a branch torn falls to the ground
Whilst the trunk remains to see out further years
I can feel the air against my face cutting me
As I struggle to make headway in this wind
Remembering the pine forest that once stood
Until the wind cut through like a scythe
Leaving a swathe as each pulled a neighbour down
The shallow roots offering little against the wind
Could it be that the willow is the wisest of them all
Growing tall and yet so firmly rooted in the ground
Or the oak that sheds a branch to retain the inner strength
What if the roots of pines become intertwined
Supporting each other to give a greater deeper strength
Whichever tree we might choose for our lives
Faith must have firm roots to take the strain
Copyright: David Hopcroft August 2020
Hollybush Oak
You watched me grow as a small lad to a youth
From short trousers to jeans to a young man with dreams
I watched you grow, more slowly it seems
That skeleton keeping watch over the cold dark days of winter
Sleeping in dormancy yet always there
Facing up to fierce blizzards and to driving rain
Bursting buds giving green again in the spring
Life emerging with vigour from year to year
When the sun shone in the summer
I did my exam revision under your branches
Trying to absorb those theories of physics and mathematics
Enjoying the shade that you provided
Fascinated when the first catkins appeared
Watched as the acorns then grew
Collected some and they grew too
I planted the seedlings in hedges where they might be protected
You gave shelter to insects and food for hairstreak caterpillars
Allowed birds to build nests in branches woodpeckers to carve out a home
When your acorns fell the squirrel and badger turned up for the feast
As leaves fell stag beetles arrived
We made a small garden around you
Planted some beans and a few peas
I remember a snow coming late in the Spring
When because of your leaves
A bough bent down but it broke
Sad days as time moved on
I left the farm so many years ago
When I returned
All that was there was a stump
The impatience of man for a log-burning stove
I wonder if oak trees have souls
Do they hold spirits in the ground beneath roots
Is there a memory that links the tree to me
Days that I enjoyed beneath leafy boughs
Listening to a breeze move between leaves
You may keep your verandah your awning and porch
Just give me the shade of an old oak tree
Where the birds are a singing and insects are buzzing
Nature at its best so why not come join me
Copyright: David Hopcroft July 2020
Life on the lawn
Life on the lawn
There is a brown moth with spots on the lawn today
A visitor that I have not seen before
Flitting from one clump of grass to another
We have something in common with each other
We are both God’s creatures and we share the lawn
The moth seeks nourishment and I seek recreation
The moth searches whilst I sit in contemplation
Until a hover fly comes to my attention
Seeking for pollen from the yellow buttercup
A bumblebee explores the red jasmine by the shed
Then flies off to try the grapevine instead
Beneath the tuft of grass I see the busy ant
Struggling with a seed to take back to the nest
There is a pleasure in observing this harmony
Of so many creatures that share this lawn with me
There’s a lesson for humankind if we could see
There is a place for all of us upon this earth
And every creature and plant has its worth
Including the small spider that is crawling over me
So as I sit and watch I also learn
Each creature that I see has a purpose for my lawn
A pleasure I appreciate as I rest within my chair
Letting time pass quietly as I sit and stare
Oh look There a red beetle on the lily over there
Copyright: David Hopcroft June 2020
The Butterfly Flies High
The Butterfly Flies High
The sun shines and by a wandering stream
A butterfly flutters by as I sit and daydream
I marvel at the colours on the wings
At the beauty of the patterns and my heart sings
Out in praise at this wonder of creation
That to my eyes and mind provides further revelation
A black body that shines to perfection
Now the butterfly seeks out a special flower
To give nourishment to sustain her life
Emerging from the confinement of the chrysalis
Freedom at last giving opportunity for bliss
Flying above a kaleidoscope of coloured petals
Comes the puzzle of how does the butterfly choose
What could it be that will provide attraction
Is it the surface pattern or what might lie beneath
Deep down at base of petal is the nectar that she seeks
A sweetness to be tasted and desired
The excitement of a new life that has begun
Flying high as a kite with the juices of the flower
Then fluttering down to settle gently upon my arm
Perhaps conveying a message especially for me
That I too will find the nectar that I seek
A butterfly that says come fly away with me
And I will show you sweet nectar beyond the sea
Copyright: David Hopcroft June 2020
The Humble Bumblebee
The Humble Bumblebee
I sat within the shade of my cherry tree
An welcome afternoon nap to rest a weary body
Almost asleep then my eye is drawn to the flower of the chive
Where the sound of gentle buzzing with a purpose is alive
Seeking out the pollen that becomes a daily task
Each day spent in search of something that is desired
The beauty of a black body that comes with a splash of colour
Yellow and orange bands adding to the attraction
A rounded body that you might expect to wobble in flight
Yet such control is perfection and holds my sight
The patience of a creature that goes from flower to flower
Seeking and never tiring flying from hour to hour
Then returning to a nest within the ground
Where an old stem provides shelter and a home
Some only see and know that a bee may sting
A pain inflicted that will also cost her life
But left alone then the bee will do no harm
In seeking out the pollen she displays a certain charm
Watch carefully and she will cause you no alarm
A persistence that seems to my eye an attraction
The patience of each visit as I watch her reaction
Now there is a little secret and I cannot tell you why
Whilst the humble bee fascinated me I still chose the butterfly
Copyright: David Hopcroft June 2020
Park Bench Tales and other writings 