the tree

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Inspirational

    Poem Commentary

    i decided to have a little creative fun and write the words in a tree shape  hope you enjoy

    the tree

                                                       i  
                                                am a single 
                                         tree standing all  alone
                                  my branches are weak they creak
                            and moan my leaves are withered tattered
                     and brown effortlessly breaking falling to the ground
                              blanketed in lifes winter feeling so cold
                                through the many seasons i grow old
                                         watered and nurtured
                                               i stay strong
                                                  branches 
                                                whistle invites 
                                                for birds to tag 
                                                along my trunk
                                                 remains firm
                                                 and set in the 
                                                 ground small
                                                sprouts of grass
                                                growing all around    
       i have stood many years and hopefully for many more because
          my trunk is my soul and my standing task is my only chore

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    hippideeth commented on the tree

    01-20-2010

    I use to do the same thing with making images. This poem well structured. T. S. Eliot and the Modernists used a style in which you give reader an image or vision so they can react for themself. This is definetely taking it to another level. Great Poem! Keep it up.
    Reply to Comment

    dvusdreams

    01/21/2010

    thank you very much for the comment i really welcome the positive feedback

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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