Thanks to my poetry class this semester for the feedback. Special thanks to Laura, who sugested the the idea of making this a shape poem.
This poem is my property, so no stealing.
Lesson from a Tree
The dark green buds can be seen on every limb and every limb’s limb.
In the early spring they are hard and callous-like, the result of the winter’s labor.
Hard earned new life beginning where its predecessor died only twelve months ago.
Suddenly, April arrives, breading lilacs and green leaves out of the buds once so small.
Green leaves last until September then turn brilliant shades of red and brown and gold
As they slowly die and fall away to carpet the ground until the first snow.
This has happened before and will happen again.
But the tree remains here.
It is not moved by weather.
When the snow falls,
When the winds blow,
It just stands where
Its life began.
Quiet and still.
A model of patience,
An image of stability,
A symbol of groundedness.
Its roots are deep in the past. It feeds from the lives of former generations.
Even if transplanted it must be sustained by what its
Ancestors leave behind;
It survives on
Tradition.
The dark green buds can be seen on every limb and every limb’s limb.
In the early spring they are hard and callous-like, the result of the winter’s labor.
Hard earned new life beginning where its predecessor died only twelve months ago.
Suddenly, April arrives, breading lilacs and green leaves out of the buds once so small.
Green leaves last until September then turn brilliant shades of red and brown and gold
As they slowly die and fall away to carpet the ground until the first snow.
This has happened before and will happen again.
But the tree remains here.
It is not moved by weather.
When the snow falls,
When the winds blow,
It just stands where
Its life began.
Quiet and still.
A model of patience,
An image of stability,
A symbol of groundedness.
Its roots are deep in the past. It feeds from the lives of former generations.
Even if transplanted it must be sustained by what its
Ancestors leave behind;
It survives on
Tradition.
5 comments:
On Observing a Large Red-Streak Apple
Philip Freneau
1 In spite of ice, in spite of snow,
In spite of all the winds that blow,
In spite of hail and biting frost,
Suspended here I see you tossed
You still retain your wonted1 hold
Though days are short and nights are cold.
2 Amidst this system of decay
How could you have one wish to stay?
If fate or fancy kept you there
They meant you for a Solitaire.2
Were it not better to descend,
Or in the cider mill to end
Than thus to shiver in the storm
And not a leaf to keep you warm—
A moment then, had buried all,
Nor you have doomed so late a fall.
3 But should the stem to which you cling
Uphold you to another spring,
Another race would round you rise
And view the stranger with surprize,
And, peeping from the blossoms say
Away old dotard, get away!
4 Alas! small pleasure can there be
To dwell, a hermit, on the tree—
Your old companions, all, are gone,
Have dropt and perished, every one;
You only stay to face the blast,
A sad memento of the past.
1 wonted: usual, ordinary, or habitual
2 Solitaire: a gemstone set by itself
i would recommend watching ur tenses- think about when things are happening, have happening, will happen.
That is interesting, I think you have good potential. Your descriptions are good, though I might suggest more colorful (?)adjectives...kind of giving each season it's own unique feel.
I love that it is a shape poem, I don't know if I've even seen one like that before.
And last but not least, why didn't I know you had a blog?!?
Because I have not used it in a few years
This poem looks like a mushroom cloud.
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