Call me a big sap (no pun intended) but I love reading and writing poetry. Being a tree surgeon I spend a lot of my time up trees which I think gives me a unique persepective on life and nature! So I have decided to write a poem about my experiences of being a tree surgeon in Canterbury.
My poem reflects on the life of a tree surgeon in Canterbury. It paints a picture of the beauty and serenity of working among the trees, but also touches on the challenges and dangers that come with the job. Through vivid imagery and descriptions, it captures the love and passion that a tree surgeon has for their work, as well as the deep respect and connection they feel towards nature. Overall, the poem celebrates the important role that these skilled individuals play in preserving and caring for the trees and the environment in the charming city of Canterbury.
So without further ado, here is my poem about being a tree surgeon in Canterbury. I hope you enjoy it…
In the ancient city of Canterbury,
Where history speaks through each tree,
I am a tree surgeon, a healer of sorts
For the tall guardians that stand before me.
My days begin with the break of dawn,
As I gear up with my tools so sharp,
Ready to climb and tend to each tree,
In this land where nature still holds our hearts.
With ropes and harnesses, I ascend,
Into the branches, high up in the sky,
Where I am greeted by the gentle sway,
And the sweet melodies of birds flying by.
Some might see it as a daunting task,
To be suspended so high in the air,
But I find peace amidst the leaves and the wind,
And the hum of life that surrounds me there.
My hands are skilled, my eyes are keen,
As I carefully scan each tree I see,
Looking for signs of distress or disease,
That may cause harm to its beauty.
With a loving touch, I prune and trim,
Removing dead branches and unwanted growth,
Ensuring that the tree’s health is maintained,
For it is a living being, not just a post.
I listen closely to the whispers of the leaves,
As they rustle and whisper secrets to me,
Guiding my hands to where they are needed,
For the tree and I share a silent chemistry.
But it’s not just maintenance that I do,
For there are times when trees need more,
From storm damage to infections and pests,
I am there to restore and to cure.
I graft and transplant, and shape and mold,
As I coax life back into each tree,
For they are not just objects in this city,
But living beings that deserve care and sympathy.
As I work, I am reminded of the past,
Of the battles this city has seen,
And how these trees have stood tall and strong,
Surviving through it all, evergreen.
They are a reflection of this ancient city,
A symbol of strength and resilience,
And I am honored to play a part,
In keeping their beauty and history vibrant.
But my job is not just about the trees,
For I also connect with kindred spirits,
Who share my love for nature and its wonders,
And we bond over our love for these tall spirits.
And as the day comes to an end,
I descend from the branches with a grateful heart,
Knowing that I have given my all,
To these trees that have become a part of my art.
For I am not just a tree surgeon in Canterbury,
But a guardian and a friend to these trees,
And I hope that my love for them,
Will continue to spread like the wind, free.
So I’ll keep climbing and tending,
As the years go by and the seasons change,
For there is nothing more rewarding,
Than being a tree surgeon in this ancient city of Canterbury.