Archive for trees

The Making Of Sir Willow

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on September 13, 2014 by Keith Alan Watson

Bruce Marlin

♪ ♫ ♪

Stealing a glance under my branch,
I spied a green-eyed lady,
as if, by Chance, or Fate’s romance,
she found me cool and shady.

I heard her sigh for times gone by,
her breath grew slow and steady.
I knew not why, but in her cry,
old tears stood at the ready.

Releasing all, the rain did fall
on ruddy roots and timber.
Like thunder calls that break down walls;
like leaves turn in September.

Like storms pass on, She turned to song,
my rigid frame grew limber.
Like grass loves sun, Love made us one:
A Day Made To Remember.

Bruce Marlin

– Uncle Tree

Photograph by Bruce Marlin @ Wikimedia

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Tree Dancing

Posted in poetry with tags , , on July 1, 2014 by Keith Alan Watson

HD Wall Now

In the twilight ~ West Sun’s daughter

photon dancing on the water

Wave-less light-waves 

glowing madly

beaming gladly

a soft purple haze

Waltzing easy, bare and breezy

always longing for far better days

♫ ♪ ♫

Uncle Tree

..if breath could be impossibly quiet..
 infinity might have to turn around 

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From The Executive Branch

Posted in poetry with tags , , on February 2, 2014 by Keith Alan Watson


leaf and leaves now leave me speechless
left and right twist meaningless
centered in the symmetry
nature turns quietly
grown perfectly
you and me
so simple
so free
giant oak trees-around-the-world
The Angel Oak
From Uncle Tree

A Gift To Open Hearts And Minds

Posted in Christianity, poetry with tags , , on December 23, 2013 by Keith Alan Watson


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Out On The Limbs Of Love

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on December 11, 2013 by Keith Alan Watson


When it snows, and my limbs begin to bend

under the weight, I relax

 letting loose all worries and cares 

When the North wind blows

I just curl in my roots

like toes in new Christmas shoes

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Uncle Tree’s Temptress

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 20, 2010 by Keith Alan Watson

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?”


Medicated Lady Drills Uncle Tree

Posted in Entertainment, poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 21, 2009 by Keith Alan Watson



Please come and give the dear lady a piece of your mind.

Watch out for splinters.


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