Her leaves are late;
she likes to sleep
through early spring.
Her dreams are deep.
Ample arms
that offer rest
to minstrels coming
home to nest;
chirping, chatting
where they’ve been
and wondrous things.
She listens in.
Gathering her
strength with haste;
the time is short
with none to waste.
Toiling when
the days are long;
her work is joy.
Her roots are strong.
Soon her tenants
start to stir
and one by one
take leave of her
as breezes turn
to winds that blow.
The others clutch
while she lets go.
First frost finds her
fast asleep.
It’s how she soars.
Her dreams are deep.
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11 comments:
I like the personification of the natural world. This was very enjoyable. Sorry. I don't mean to sound trite. It was just a really pleasant poem to read.
Kat
Joaquin - This is a beautiful personifiction of the tree and her residents! You seem to have seen right into the heart of her. The use of the birds and the weather to speed us through time and show her growth cycle is ingenious but feels one-hundred percent natural. I can picture this so easily, as if I'm watching a movie; it's that visual for me. I notice, too, that we get a full picture of the tree - leaves to roots and in-between.
I love this nature poem and its rhyme and line breaks. You continuously show your range as a poet. Bravo!
Looks like a poem that one of those trees from the Lord of the Rings would say about the entwives! I thoroughly enjoyed reading this especially because for a lot of people imagining a tree's mind would be almost impossible because nobody even considers it a living thing! Great poem!
I want to know her. She is lovely. She soothes me, quells my nervousness.
I like the way you begin: "her leaves are late" and "she likes to sleep". She sounds like me.
She doesn't have time but she listens. Her roots are strong but she soars. She sounds like someone I know.
In all, she sounds like someone I'd like to know, your Sycamore.
Ranee
I am sad that you are already writing about fall. :-( Must it come already? I love this poem despite my dismay, for the lovely personification.
I am sad that you are already writing about fall. :-( Must it come already? I love this poem despite my dismay, for the lovely personification and the spirit you have made alive in her.
I like this one the most:
"Her dreams are deep"...
I think I know how she must feel.
Cuz it hurts when I wake up.
It's funny how we all find ourselves in her... even if just parts. ;)
kat - thank you - no apology necessary - glad you enjoyed it.
karen - well - it was directly inspired. thank you - writing it felt pretty natural in that i think i was following it more than leading it, which doesn't happen as often as i'd like, but i usually like the outcome better. (was it one of those fast-forward movies where a leaf grows in 5 seconds? those are amazing.)
blo-mo (can i call you blo-mo? not to be derogatory - i just have a weird thing for nicknames.) thank you - i hadn't thought about the entwives - but now that you mention it - you're right. tolkien was so far ahead of his time it's almost scary.
rachel - hmmm - i think you might. thank you.
ranee - me too. and i think you'd like her - thank you
cat - sorry - i didn't mean for it to be a fall poem but i guess it kind of is. thank you though - spirit trumps season, yes?
sg - "it hurts when i wake up"- you too?! it is funny though - i think i can find a little of who i am and a little of who i'd like to be.
You remain the only rhyming poet on the web I read. And Shay at Word Garden, sometimes she rhymes, but only you two poets.
I'm such a freaking poetry snob. But hey, I'm old enough to know what I like.
These are beautiful words to read on a beautiful evening. What a feeling of peace this poem gives me. There's just something about a sycamore that gives me a dreamy feeling, and you capture that perfectly here with the blowing wind, the ample arms. I love the strong roots and the "tenants" who live in her. Thanks for another excellent read, Joaquin. I hope you have a great weekend:)
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