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Poetry on Grey Squirrels 1

Poetry on Grey Squirrels ebook

£2.99

a poetry ePub ebook
based on prompts and podcast by ecologist John Handley
as part of the Maligned Species project

This e-book is supplied in epub format, which is viewable with a free reader app. More information on epub files here

Go here for a PDF version

There will be a kindle version available soon

Product Description

Here is a collection of poems – about Grey Squirrels.

Monies from each ebook sold will be donated to Shropshire Wildlife Trust.

Includes poems from commissioned poets: David Calcutt, Keith Chandler,  Andrew Fusek Peters, Nadia Kingsley, Liz Lefroy, and Emma Purshouse.

Plus poems from: Richard Archer,  Tim Gardiner, Linda Goulden, John Handley, Jan Harris, Steve Harris, Steve Harrison, Charlie Jordan, Gerald Kells, Peter Knaggs, Patricia Leighton, Nina Lewis, Ruth Lowe, Eric Nicholson, Deborah Wargate, Peter Wyton, and Gordon Yapp.

This ebook is suitable for smartphones, e-readers, and tablets including the iPad.

A Sample Poem:

And all was for a cherry         Keith Chandler

One day green beads
beneath the leaves began to colour up.
Within minutes arrived
grey hordes, wolf shadows, a flying squad.
Starting at the top where no ladder
or thrown stick could see them off,
they squatted, tail over shoulder
like a college scarf, as if to exercise
some ancient right to scoff the lot.

Winter had found them amusing enough –
swimming from branch to branch
tail following behind, a double bounce.
Or hung claw-footed upside down
to get at the feeders, ‘squirrel-proof’.
Or, stage misers,
jinking from hidden cache to cache,
their mind a maze of dot-to-dots.
But this…this was too much.

Tree rats the neighbour called them
arriving with his gun.
Pop pop pop. Business soon done.
But thanking him I felt rotten –
seeing close up how russet reds
bordered the grey, the bellies white,
tail fur bristled with coppery light…
Chucked on the shed roof
for buzzards to find.

And that cherry crop we’d ‘saved’?
Of the branches
low enough to pick, I had,
mouth bearded with juice, more than enough,
the rest let drop, a festering mush.
Come winter, as if to punish us
with a lack of grace notes, leaps and runs,
all music of the trees rubbed out,
we waited, but they didn’t come back.

 

Book cover design by Rhys Bevan Jones

Book edited by Nadia Kingsley

Part of the Maligned Species project

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