Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their bows.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween
And in the Spring new buds of green.
......
This is the way that autumn came to the trees:
it stripped them down to the skin,
left their ebony bodies naked.
It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves,
scattered them over the ground.
Anyone could trample them out of shape
undisturbed by a single moan of protest.
The birds that herald dreams
were exiled from their song,
......
I had for long been an arborist, enthusiastically caring for the trees,
Like a grasshopper immersed in a green world, is glad for all he sees.
I had always loved nature, having begun gardening when I was a child,
As bluebirds rise up singing very early, in tangled precincts so wild.
It was foreseeable that this passion, would emerge as my life's work,
As an artist might strive for years, creating a masterpiece artwork!
I was also familiar with various birds, as a result of this vocation,
......
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
......
Both scrumptious fruits and blooms,
Are grown in my walled garden wild,
That is filled with heavenly fumes,
And many colors both rich and mild!
Red strawberries and blueberries too,
Blackberries and two big apple trees,
Begonias, buttercups, and iris of blue,
And roses tango with evening's breeze!
......
When the wind wants to sweep you off your feet onto a cloud and take you somewhere keep in the pines and forests and lay you down at trees in a circle where there’s a firepit and a lump of sticks and a guitar that never goes out of tune, with a clique of friends of all different personas, ones you would never get tired of and the wind is gliding into your back saying go, go, go.
Let it take you there
THE WHEELCHAIR BOUND
Dots appeared and disappeared
on a single sun ray
peering through the
rotted canvas blind
She sat on a wheelchair rusting
beneath her unexercised
arse
......
I am a solitary lonely tree,
No birds perch and sing to me.
Boughs all scrawny and broke,
Is this someone`s idea of a joke.
Oh! why am I the only tree?
No friends standing beside me.
I`m just a sad and lonely tree,
In the middle of a lifeless city.
......
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
when red and purple leaves are falling.
Ungathered cherries hang in reverie!
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
engaged in multihued, cool creativity.
Goodbye violet birds skyrocket, calling!
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
when red and purple leaves are falling.
“Do you remember,”
the oak sighed,
“the day the storm raged,
and I bent, but did not break?”
The slender birch swayed,
her bark shimmering,
“I danced with the wind,
a wild ballet,
while you stood firm,
......