Christmas for Franklin

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    Christmas for Franklin

     

    In the yard stood the black tree,

    Full of sweet sap for him and me.

    We drilled and then tapped,

    Hung a bucket to keep it trapped.

     

    It dripped for days. It fell

    In drops too slow to tell,

    The black sap, sugar sap,

    And cold, for me and my granpap.

     

    The tree has since died, torn

    By storm, but few I know did mourn.

    And the sap between that flowed

    Has ceased. And we grow old.

     

    So time will tell, and kill, dry

    Up hope, make dreams die.

    And tapped sap, and water, and blood

    Will all perish beneath time’s mud.

     

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    morgainecnyll’s Poems (45)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Doormat 0
    Sonnet X 0
    Options 0
    The Perfect Metaphor 0
    Bystander outside Arby's 0
    The One 0
    2:00 A.M. and unable to sleep 1
    For Alex 0
    If love was meant... 3
    Consummation 3
    Why I am Silent 0
    Wanderjahr 0
    Elysium Fields for You (In loving memory of James Patrick Garis, i.e. Uncle Jim) 0
    Nebulaic 1
    hush 0
    Clarification
    s, Pt. 1: Love
    1
    The Fall 0
    Immobile; Narcissus, dying. 0
    Phasing 0
    liminal 0
    Why I am Silent 0
    Tsavorite (Sonnet VII) 0
    Christmas for Franklin 0
    John Brown was a Strange Father 0
    This Purpose 0
    Revelation 1
    Prodigal Revisted 2
    the climb 1
    random 1
    untitled 0
    sonnet 8 2
    untitled 2
    Fairy Tail 0
    thoughtless 0
    Feb. 3, 2008 : The Beloved Son 0
    Sonnet 6 0
    April 22, 2007-- Sonnet V 0
    Ophelia 3
    July2006—Hi
    nc illae lacrimae
    0
    June 27, 2006- The Hollow Cost 0
    Amor Vincit Omnia (In Wilfred Owen Style) 2
    April 26, 2006—Phenom
    anon
    0
    April 7, 2006—Sonnet III 2
    February 29/March 2 2004— the Stirring 1
    Mechanical 1