Archive for tree poetry
Entombed in the thickest of forests He lay, donning a dark shroud of cool deadened leaves. Limbs that once held the glorious weight of the world were now, at the last, but scattered timbers on sacred grounds. Branches that once shouldered the burden of the blame had broken from the main, and still the vines held fast! Everything for which He stood – a scheme inside a dream; His crowning achievement – a sacrificial theme; all was laid to rest beside the petrifying flesh of His ancestors.
Many a number of trees in these woods were born of His seed. Year after year, they continued to fill the avoided spaces with new life. Surrounding Him now, one by one, they began to pay homage to His grandeur. The critters nearby crept forth in a slow procession. The sun lightened its pace, whilst the raven kept his quiet, keeping a keen eye on the softly landing white doves. ‘Twas the perfect mourning for the painful ~ exacting ~ moments to spring forth and reclaim their royal birthrights.
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Illustrated by Aaron Pocock
She came to me one morning
without a leaf to bear.
I needed no fair warning
from the lass with twiggy hair.
She tickled my fancy twice,
and then brushed against me thrice.
The warm-up was very nice, but
her next move came with a price.
I paid for it dearly, and tipped her properly.
Then I asked,
“See you again next Friday?”
I shuffled down the dirt road at a snail’s pace
trying to prolong my existence,
in a feeble attempt to postpone the inevitable,
my back to a howling wind that pushed me along from behind.
The whistling in my ears muted the sneers
from a multitude of dust devils.
High noon was fast approaching,
bringing to light a tortuous certainty.
I stared down at the loosely hanging shackles
that bound me to the filth of poetic injustice.
Muttered a curse to the sentence pronounced.
Swore to the gods through the pangs of retribution.
I knew where I was headed,
and followed the footsteps of many a man most assuredly
Please come and give the dear lady a piece of your mind.
Watch out for splinters.
I’m so glad you stopped!
Yes, I’ve been felled and can’t get up.
I never intended to cross the road.
The other side never looked greener.
I do hope you welcome the detour.
You’ll find a knife in the fork just ahead.
In a minute, you can leave your mark.
Carve your initials into my bark.
Now add a plus sign for good measure.
Then under that – the name you treasure.
Surround them both with a human heart,
Captured in love, in rapture thou art.
No skin off my back, I feel no pain.
‘Tis good to be on the road again!