our woodland friends

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Verse and illustrations by Beryl E Organ

Woodland Friends 215x210mm_Layout 1 23/03/2011 16:30 Page 2

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To Ellie, James, Jack and Holly

My dear great-grandchildren

With all my love

from Grandee2011


Published by Memoirs Books

Memoirs Books25 Market Place, Cirencester, Gloucestershire, GL7 2NX

www.memoirsbooks.co.uk [email protected]

Copyright ©Beryl Organ February 2011 First published in England, February 2011

Edited by Chris NewtonBook jacket design and layout Ray Lipscombe

ISBN 978-0-9565102-4-2

All rights reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of Memoirs Books.

Printed in England


The fallow buck has antlers grand

In shady glades for hours he’ll stand

Among the trees in woods so dim

We humans hardly notice him

His favourite foods are all around

Growing lush upon the ground -

Chestnuts, acorns, grass so sweet

Roots and shoots and young green wheat.


The nimble stoat with golden coat

Comes out to hunt at night

As she stands tall to catch the scent

Small creatures flee in fright

She dances to attract her prey

Then sleeps all through the summer’s day.


Red squirrel digs into the lawn

Hiding nuts from night till morn

All through winter she’ll sleep fast

When spring arrives, she’ll wake at last

And then, with hunger on her mind

Her hoard of nuts she’ll go and find.


The lively otter loves to play

Where sparkling rivers make their way

When daytime comes he goes to ground

To dine upon the fish he found

The woodland streams run cold and fast

But now he’s caught his meal at last.


The water vole lives by the stream

His bankside home is rarely seen

He paddles like a little boat

Then quickly dries his glossy coat.

Don’t let him know that you’re around

He’ll vanish at the slightest sound!


From dark green woods to wide blue skies

Watch the noble buzzard rise

High above the trees he’ll soar

To gaze down on the forest floor

His sharp eyes soon will find the prey

He’ll swoop upon to eat that day.


This rabbit found a carrot patch

And goodness he is happy

But he will have to hurry up

And make his visit snappy

For if the farmer comes this way

He won’t feel quite so happy!


The woodland leaves are turning gold

Winter’s on its way

This wily fox hunts all around

For furred or feathered prey

Winter days are grey and cold

And food is getting short

So he must keep on hunting

Till something tasty’s caught.


Grey squirrel sleeps away the hours

Cosy in his drey

When hunger calls he goes to find

His nuts from yesterday

He finds a tree stump, sits on top

And with his tiny paws

He strips the shell and eats the nut

Without a moment’s pause.


The bank vole hides away by day

Beneath the woods and hedges

At night he hunts for fresh green shoots

Along the woodland edges

He gnaws the bark from off the trees

Leaves little marks on branches

When Mr Fox is on the prowl

The bank vole takes his chances!


The woodpigeon’s a handsome bird

With feathers grey and white

His beak and legs are chestnut red

He makes a pretty sight

He coo-coo-coos all summer long

High among the trees

Then takes off with a clap of wings

If one of us he sees.


The harvest mouse loves cornfields

But the tractor scared him so

He’s made a new home in the reeds

Beside the river’s flow

He plays among the waving stems

Hanging by his tail

And builds a nest above the ground

For safety must prevail.


Badger leaves her sett at night

And hunts for food while moon is bright

The young ones think it’s all great fun

She shows the cubs just how it’s done

When all are fed it’s time for play

Then off to slumber through the day


This mother rabbit’s heard a sound

Something rustled on the ground

Her babies hide away in fear

Perhaps the fox is coming near!

She keeps a lookout, ears a-twitch

To warn them hiding in the ditch.


This roe deer fawn is not long born

He tiptoes out to play

What fun to find his way around,

Enjoy the summer’s day

He knows his mum will soon be back

And with him she will stay.


Among the woods the ponies trot

Nibbling at the grass

They love to chat about the news

With each new friend they pass

When playtime’s over for the day

They find a place to rest

And settle down to sleep in peace

As the sun sinks in the west.


Who scurries through the fields and woods

And by the water too?

Whose pointed snout sniffs worms and grubs?

It is of course the shrew!

By pond and stream she bustles on

Her babies follow, one by one.


The bright brown hare has speed and grace

He’ll match the rest in any race

His legs are lithe and fast and strong

Through field and dell he bounds along

Then lies so still down in the grass

You’ll never spot him as you pass.


Hedgehog needs to build a nest

So she’ll have somewhere safe to rest

Soon her babies will be born

They’ll need to hide from dusk to dawn

So she can leave them safe from sight

While she goes hunting food each night.


The weasel, tiny and so quick

Is deadlier than she seems

She’ll catch her prey by night or day

By woods or fields or streams

No burrow can be safe from her

No hole can be too small

No mouse or vole is rat is safe

From weasel’s teeth and jaws.


This fallow doe has heard a sound

Perhaps she’d better go to ground!

Shy and timid, quick to run

To deep green woods away from sun

She waits until the danger’s past

And comes out when it’s safe at last.


The tawny owl sits in his tree

Waiting out the day

When darkness falls you’ll hear his call

It’s time to hunt his prey

His eyes are keen, his ears are sharp

He hears each vole and shrew

On silent wings he swoops to kill

Too wit, too wit, too woo!


9 780956 510242

ISBN 978-0-9565102-4-2

Published by Memoirs25 Market Place, Cirencester

Gloucestershire GL7 2NX

TEL: 01285 640485www.memoirsbooks.co.uk

memoirs

Beryl Organ was born in Bristol in 1928 and soon developed a lifelong love of nature

and a fascination for animals and flowers of all kinds. She has also had a lifelong

passion for painting in both oils and watercolour. For many years she ran a modelling

agency. In 1972 she decided to try her hand at writing books about nature for children.

Since then, at her home in Gloucester, she has written several books telling stories

about animals and flowers, some in prose, others in verse.

After publishing Tiggy’s World and Benjy’s Magic Mantle in 2010, Beryl has now

completed Tales of Mr Winkle, the story of a garden gnome, and is working on three books of verse for children

entitled Animal Antics, Our Woodland Friends and ABC of Flowers.

Tales of Mr Winkle is about an old garden gnome who watches the comings and goings of his many animal friends

and neighbours from his seat beside the pond. When the winter nights start drawing in Mr Winkle is sad to watch

the squirrels, frogs, hedgehogs and songbirds disappear until next spring, but he has many other visitors to keep

him company, particularly his friend Rudi the Robin – and he is soon joined by some unexpected friends to cheer

him up.

Acknowledgememts: Les for his valued help. Dear daughters, Karen and Janet for their assistance on this and other books. Tiggys world, Benjys Magic Mantle 2010

Photograph courtesy of Mark , Concept Photograhy

© C

oncept Photograhy

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our woodland friends

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foundthe woodland streams

shell wake

grey squirrel

mindher hoard of nuts

dark green woods

trees hell soarto gaze