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Personification Tree Poems | Personification Poems About Tree

These Personification Tree poems are examples of Personification poems about Tree. These are the best examples of Personification Tree poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Personification | |


My slender boughs are bowed
by the great weight of my grief,
and these are not leaves

cascading to soil, but tears of teal.
I am shaken by a sorrowful breeze;
my sap taken by the fading light,

dried out and hollowed, a rasp of parched bark;
creaking and weeping
with the weight of my mythology

as cold takes hold, scoring its mark on bark,
rippling and stippling my leaves;
a shivering shroud of green settling over me.

Yet eternity rings coil at my core, ensure
tiers of teardrop leaves will glisten with life again,
drooping and dripping in a shimmering baptism of rain.

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Oh how I hate the winter where my limbs are exposed and seen I just adore the spring time, I wear my dress of emerald green Draping myself in lush foliage, not an inch of body you can see Until warm winds of autumn arrive and begin to undress me Then I start to shiver as my gown of golden leaves falls away Leaving me cold and naked until spring returns again one day Contest - Trees Personified Sponsor – Charlotte Jade Puddifoot 08~22~15

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A conceited spring leaf, with pride in its heart


Its vigor and its beauty


The tree, how important it and its sibling leaves were,

And that without them naked the tree would have remained

Having no 

Foliage, that so majestically the tree had dressed which, not only  
Oxygen supplied to the tree 


Also protection from the wind and for the birds a place to

Make their home.  

The tree, after the leaf its long monologue had finished,

Turned towards it and asked with a sardonic smile:

“Where would you be, my newborn friend, if I were not 



To provide, my branches for you to grow on 


Nourishment from my roots that are hidden in the

Ground? *

© Demetrios Trifiatis 
    12 MARCH 2015

* All stories I write with such dialogues, are the result of inspiration. 
If, however, the story is not a poetic one, Please, blame me and not 
the inspiration!  

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The Oak

I stood as though reborn on mounded dirt,
which seemed so moist it strangely could assuage
the ache from bowels that howled from so much hurt.
Would ground then be my cure or a mirage?
Enticed, I deeply pressed each foot through soil
till they took root and fixed me to a spot.
My ever-thickening trunk served well to foil
the plots of those who’d cut me. . . . they could not!
My limbs, though mighty branches, could not bend;
stubbornly I fought my transplantation.
I weathered storms that God or man might send,
sightless, living long in desolation.
Self preservation did this much for me:
old loved ones passed and I remained a tree.

For the Trees Personification Contest of Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

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My Tree

My Tree, 
My child,
From seed to sprout
Then twig to bough
From shade to light
Together upward t`ward the sun
From hope to faith then love,
Embrace my death, 
And grow with me. 

Details | Personification | |

The Dove Tree

A flock of Christmas doves
carried a turquoise veil
through a white winter sky
and found a willow tree
weeping and alone 
in the cold of a December day

The veil was pinned in the sky
and twenty five doves
alit in the bare branches 
so the tree was no longer alone
as it listened to the song
of the doves in the chilled morning air..

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Standing ninety feet tall, I stand among my family
Graceful and gracious with my green stem and leaves
A cornucopia of chirping sounds you’ll hear from the birds
The whisper of the wind is music in our midst.

Do you ever wonder how I have grown at last
For it was only six weeks ago that I was not on this spot
Yet it would seem that right before your very eyes
I grew so fast! At times as much as four feet a day.

My story cannot be told without mentioning the farmer
Who day after day, year after year for five straight years
Never gave up on me, a testimony of perseverance and trust
and hope and faith in One Almighty and the power of a dream.

Knowing the value of patience, he waited and cared for me
Oh so tenderly…never gave up on me that I dared ever not
conceive of disappointing him, so while he watered me 
every day, I did what I had to do. I grew.

Not above the soil but underneath the ground
With a network of thousands of roots for each mere seed
That one day when the right time came on the fifth year
I seemed to shoot right off the ground. Miracles abound.

I am ever giving. From my shoots I give food to the hungry 
From my stem, I give shelter, a bed, a seat and the fence
I provide clothing and paper. It is my nature to give.
From my innermost being I provide freshness in the air.

Strong and resilient, I am not cowed by storms
They give their all to topple me from where I stand
Yet I hold my ground. I may bend and sway with the wind
but after a while I stand straight again, not losing my grip. 
An image of me is of one who is calm. I am at peace with myself.

26 August 2015
Trees Personified Contest
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot

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the tallest I’ve ever seen was in primary
towering like a General in the military
a haggard expression of pain and disgust
the needle like leaves his ooze would discard
he seemed so staunch in his camouflage and upright salute
the pinecones resembling a grenade assault 
as curious children do, to climb we were too eager
mystery lay hidden somewhere in his evergreen erect figure
the teacher would soon be called to the rescue
climbing down now an impossible chore
some disciplinary action would be enforced
he wouldn't even be swaying in the wind this unmoveable force
then one day the war would finally be won
it took a couple of grades of broken bones and casting stones 
high up in his clutches where our balls would be stuck
he would be uprooted and loaded onto the back of the truck
but when he left, the school grounds seemed so empty
he had retired after generations serving this country
that's why it now felt like such a pyrrhic victory
in hindsight, he was truly our sentry


Contest: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot's Trees Personified 

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Life of a Tree

I am naked now, my limbs are bare
A chill blows through me during the night air

No one notices me, children do not climb
I stand still hoping not to lose a branch of mine

No green, no orange, no red I am just grey
This season I do not like because of being this way

Soon the sun will begin to show
My little buds of color start to glow

Encircled by luscious green grass I will be
Seasons are my life, this next one I like.

©Holly P. Moore
    January 2013

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The Tree

The Tree- 

My bark is worn from time and life
My steady branches have withstood much strife
The life blood that raged in my youth
Its edges raw and at times uncouth
Time has polished and as steel has hardened
As I have stood watch faithfully in my garden
My saplings I have sheltered and nourished
Their tiny sprouts have grown and flourished
My work here is almost done and
I was content to stand silent in the sun
However, one day as I stood alone
Came a carpenter with hands gentle and strong
He looked past my peeling ragged bark and
Found my barely beating heart.
He has caused me to dream of my youth again
Of beauty, peace and the passion of men
I am his project to mold and to make
A challenge only he is equipped to take
I stand here now curious to see
What this craftsman can make of me.

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Memories On My Branches

Glorious spring sunshine kiss my limbs as they sprout
With each opening bud, "I'm so alive" I want to shout
April showers cling to me as I drink each delicious drop
Hopefully chosen by blue jays to build their nest atop
Caterpillars and ants tickle me as they crawl to and fro
Nothing sweeter than watching everything around me grow

Come sit under me, take a break from the hot summer sun
Join me as I watch the baby birds leave their nest one by one
Let's marvel at the beautiful butterflies that flutter all around
The music of my friend the humming bird will surely astound
Smell the delightful fragrance of all the many flowers in bloom
Capture the magic nearby of a newly wedded bride and groom

I'm bursting with colors of yellow, orange, red, gold and brown
I proudly smile each time one of my leaves cascade down
Laughing children make my day as they roll in my splendor 
You taking my picture makes this memory much more tender
Scurrying squirrels truly fascinate me, as my acorns they hide
Forgotten ones will one day be my saplings, I'll burst with pride

Snow flakes have delightedly dressed me in a suit of white
City folk string me with lights, I boastfully light up the night
Skaters whipping by me, their energy and actions are compelling
I feel so very blessed to have been rooted within this dwelling
Come and join in the festivities and beauty of each and every season
Become a memory on my branches, I can't think of a better reason

*Dedicated to the 50-80 year old trees in Gage Park, Brampton

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Like a gentle sneeze

The tree stretches its branches
Like a cat waking up from sleep
Its leaves  give a little shake
Almost like a gentle sneeze

Looks down at the passing river 
Snaking its way past its roots
Watering nature as it meanders by
Grass and plants with wormlike shoots

Where is this river running to
What mysteries does it leave behind
Any evil  teardrops to poison you
Or just happiness of the watery kind

Whatever hope this picture brings
Look for the sun as it bursts with song
Remember that tree with its catlike stretch
And the lazy river meandering along.

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The Old Tree

It is strange
how things that we see
and take for granted
in everyday life
should suddenly instil
in our minds
a new awareness
of their presence

A silent moment
a brief pause
from life's ever quickening pace
a moment of peace -
in times like these
a common thing
like a dried old tree
becomes alive with beauty

It stands like a quiet sentinel
who has witnessed 
many an event 
through time
Time has passed by 
but it remains 
silently standing there
O Tree!
What secrets do you store
in your noble branches?
How many events have you recorded
that man knows nothing of?

In your younger days
when you wore your mantle of green
you nested the carefree birds
to their offspring
you gave protection
When the sun scorched the earth
you gave them cool shade
On a cool windy night
you gave them warmth
How pleasant was their song 
to your ear 
as they sang a song of thanks
to you

You were a playmate to the children
When they romped at your feet
or climbed on your branches
you smiled
Time grew older
and the children became lovers
You saw them kiss in your shade
soft with the light of the moon
The aura of their love
touched your leaves
and you blushed

they have all gone away
but you still remain 
silent sentinel
still waiting and watching
How many untold events 
have you witnessed
faithful keeper of secrets?

O that my soul could commune with you
and share of your rugged beauty!
Most Noble Tree!
forgive me for my
once-waxen eyes

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A Tree Warning

I know your father,
And his fathers too,
I know you all, 

And now, without a frown
You want to tear me down.
Do your fathers know ?
And children`s children ?
No ! 

I feed the air,
Embrace the earth.
I keep the flame, 
And waters hold.

Dear one, 
How will you cope,
When I am gone
Devoid of hope?

The air will choke
And earth will move
Fires consume and
Waters wash away.

When I am gone, how will you cope,
Dear one, devoid of any hope?

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The Tree cries

In our quiet senario,
 I saw a tree stare 
At me, it told me it 
Was going to die 
I asked why and it 
"I doth Love but 
Fear none.".
I asked why.
It replied in tears, 
"My hours has come, 
soon it Would be thine.
I too wept.

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The Unyielding

In the forrest of people 
I am the Chunky tree 
with long roots.
I communicate under ground- 
I have curves an
I lift my face 
and my hands 
to the heavens, 
The surrounding
trees are 
slim and beautiful 
yet unwavering 
Still I am not 
eager to become 
just another
tree in the woods. 
I dance seductively 
when the wind blows
I bow and bend 
my bough proudly
I reverence the
gusty wind.  
Submission is the 
only survival I know.

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Birth of a Poet

The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”

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Time drones slowly on 
Each eternity 
Snowflakes change to frozen rain 
Leaving icicles on the tree 

I barely notice spring's approach 
Budding branches on the tree 
Or summer's sun-kissed bounty 
From the garden planted for me 

Fall arrives in all its glory 
Nature's artists on a spree 
Painting glorious colors 
For all the world to see 

I do not see this beauty 
The golden leaves upon the tree 
To me it has no relevance 
For you're not here with me 

The sand is flowing slowly 
Through the hourglass of time 
Now the days fly by too quickly 
Soon  the tolling bell will chime 

But I cherish these fading days 
And our promised rendezvous 
When the last grain has flowed 
Then I will be with you

For John Freeman's contest (your best shot) _

 Copyright©2004 Beatrice Boyle

(All Rights Reserved

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My Chestnut Tree

If I was given one wish free
by a fairy from beyond our times,
I’d tell her that I wish to be
an agèd, stately chestnut tree
rooted deep in solid ground,
my sturdy trunk not being bowed
to some ill-humored gust,
my branches growing high and wide
so gifted with all seasons’ pride,
such as Spring’s blossoms,
Summer’s shady velvet-green,
and getting cooler in the Falls
I’d blush with joy to shed
all of my shining fruity balls,
before I stand in peace
while my bald arms are letting pass
a Winter’s frosty cruelties,
trusting the cycle soon will start anew
and I will love to spread my lush crown over you.         

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The Tree

Colorful personality.
To me, the tree is an ideal friend.
At day he listens, 
And at night he whistles,
Whispering to me what only an ancient can know.

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Once Was A Tree

Once was a tree
Not just any ordinary tree.
Once was introduced to a 
of no worries for 
Once was a special tree 
so said
those who planted me.
Once grew without 
knowledge of
my purpose on earth.
I guess it's nature.
To survive, from birth.
All I needed was nurture.
Once friends I had would
converse with I in the 
Once we would bow due 
to the
wind blows in the 
Once I survived death 
from wild
Once time came when 
of the woodlands 
ordered to cut
down the trees grown 
enough to
be processed.
Once in my life said 
my friends I thought I'll 
have for
the rest of my life.
Once I felt the wrath of 
death. But
on the bright side of it, 
my life
purpose was revealed.
Once my life has new 
meaning. To
provide tangible 
substance to the
world is my purpose on 
after processing.
Once again the OWNER 
choose my future from 
Once Was A Tree....

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Stump attracting me first and more than flowers

Flowers, grass, bushes, trees, attracted me in garden
In centre, a tree stump seemed to have complain 
Stump was sobbing, none was caring
Moved by tears, I moved closer to stump
Stump bit in solace, narrated nostalgia bit by bit

“ Was once gardens fame tree, grew lovers favorite flowers,
Lovers plucked flowers, friends wish came true for sure
On Valentine day, seeking wish fulfilling flower 
Lovers thronged, broke stem as they hysterically lunged, 
Lovers got flowers, their love life flowered
A child could not get flower, wept on failure
Queried, you are a child, flowers are for lovers 
Child wept louder said he too was a lover
Flower he wanted to present it to his Mother
Tears kept trickling , as if stump it was watering
Since then, every day child devotedly kept watering
Waiting for flower, be first one to pluck fresh flower
And present it to his dear Mother "

Deeply moved by childs love for stump, 
I felt ashamed for mad urge of plucking  flower
Flowers, thereafter, never plucked, left on tree to adore 
Not wanting to be sinned for depriving any child's present for mother
Now all stumps attracting me first and more than flowers      

( Entry for Members Contest - I fell in love with a Tree stump by Matt Caliri )    

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Remains of the papaya tree!

You chew your papaya like you chew her head.
Callous and savagely,
You take out each seed, like you did of hers.
Each seed she sowed in you, you spit out from your soul.
You think you can slice away from her life, give her a piece and let her go.
Aah but what do you know?

She has already killed the biggest seed sown by you.
In her womb lies the remains that you spewed!
The remains of the Papaya tree you grew...

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Whisper hello

Sweet flower tree whispers hello 
Walking past she interrupted...
Glorifying wings of spring on her branches
Marveling her purple paper star shower
Inhaling her peaceful unlocked power 
My spirit has lifted....
"Hello, I whisper back, 
"Thanks for interrupting!"

^(How a tree made me feel today)

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Oh how this bodice is dressed in taffeta, Lined with hundreds of lavender pleats Spiraling, drooping, whirling All over my voluptuous contour … Bare these limbs grinding on soft moss To tap among rustled displays From many a lovers’ heat to children’s romp. I gaze at my long tresses hung by threads Of July frills, combing the strands Delicate as clusters in a spin that ignites The evening air, the lush of daylight’s vine… And like Kojin in a free-fall prance, I cascade Through a mantle of grass, my arms floating Over wisps of mildest pink, of boldest lavender; Then to curtsy in a prayerful Shinto bow Under heaven's marquee where my chants about lonesome tales are hushed in secrecy. At nightfall, stars circle my lit frame, The aroma of wisteria's mint huffs outside my pores and unto an earthy glow; Young the nippled buds swelling in lusty dusk Till I gently writhe as a mystical shadow of the woods. ...................... Charlotte J Puddifoot's Contest: Trees Personified 8/26/2015 ~ The wisteria tree is packed with an assemblage of purple blossoms, falling in tapered clusters to symbolize a kneeling pose of honor and devotion based on Asian folklore. ~ Kojin: Japanese Tree Goddess

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Maple Tree

Many men came today to look at the old empty house;
I have been guarding that house for many, many years;
They spent quite some time looking at and touching me;
I heard them saying that the house was being demolished,
And a condo building would take its place.  I can't help,
wondering what will become of me.

I started my life as a whirly bird seed in a wild forest,
And soon I grew into a young tree, one of many trees.
I remember them all, spruce, balsam, fir, and birch.
And some maple, like me, that was two hundred years ago.
It was wonderful in the forest; I loved cradling the birds,
And the squirrels and chipmunks were delightful.

The seasons changed me and in winter I stood proudly,
Stripped of my dress; snow and icicles on my branches.
Over time, my tree friends were cut down to make space,
For houses and streets, but I remained standing, waiting.
Soon a lovely house was built, and I have stood over it,
For one hundred years now.

I have seen many families come and go, and I loved them,
And they loved me too.  Finally, the house stood derelict.
For years I have been alone with only the birds and squirrels,
And sometimes cats and other creatures as companions.
I love the wind in my branches in the summertime,
And how the fall changes my veined lobed leaves.

Changing them from emerald to red-orange, then yellow,
Oh how the children like collecting them from under me,
And how I adore the feel of the rain and the snow falling;
I even have flowers of green, yellow, orange and red,
In spring, I send millions of seeds twirling in the wind,
And I pray they find their place in the earth.

Do you know that my leaf is the coat of arms of Canada,
And it is on the flag; I am a symbol of strength and endurance,
I am the national tree.  But the men approaching do not care;
They do not care that I have stood for two hundred years,
And although, I expect it, the first cut is agony, and I scream;
I am screaming in pain as again and again they cut me.

Until I am lying on the ground, dead.

August 21, 2015


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Weeping Willow

How I take pride when you come to my side 
You can't stay away, and I sway as you play
Running your fingers over my peekaboo veil of lace
My emerald covering of grace…
I tremble as you sigh as you cry…your soul dry
Falling, crumbling, crawling...
to that place at my base
Your welcomed retreat….when his kisses were sweet
Taken in by my charm, the beauty of my name, my fame
lovers, you frolicked without shame....
Now he says you're to blame

“Weeping Willow”, you whisper….”Nothing’s the same”…..

There you lie; there you cry….and the day, it goes by
beside the placid lake where I stand as you quake
I want to sweep you up, shake all dormant senses awake….
Please...make no mistake....

I’m rooted in soil; I toil, not letting the goodness...spoil
The first of my peers to herald the spring, comfort I bring
Now my arms, I stretch down….touching the ground….
I cloister you deep; do not weep...
Let me lull you to sleep,
while my promise I keep:

It’s true…
Weeping Willow watches over You…. 

For Charlotte Puddifoot's Tree Contest
August 22, 2015

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            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                           brocade canopy of greens Brown hues
       ~~~~~~~ a shield fashioned of leafscaled  ebullience~~~~~~~~
 ~~~~~~~~~ to ward the sun, feel the sun, absorb the sun~~~~~~~~~
                        ~~~weather proofed and weather worn~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i am Impenetrable~~solid~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~my  girthlimbs~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~a testament to longevity~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
           ~~~~~~bicep'd branches wrestling all seasons~~~~~
       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~vanquishing time itself~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                             ~~~~~this moss'd jacket, I wear~~~~~~
                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~a supple veneer~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                                  ~~~~my challenge issued~~~ 
                     ~~~~~~~~~ my arrogance palpable~~~~~~~~~
                                            ~~~i am timeless~~~~
                        ~~~~~~~~i am Quercus eternal~~~~~~~~
                                ~~~~~~my seeds hard~~~~~~~
                                              ~as tungsten~
                                                i shed to spill 
                                                ~~carry my~~
                                                ~far and near~
                                                ~~deep I bed~~
                                                ~~neath layer~~ 
                                                ~~upon layers~~ 
                                           ~~~~~~of terra~~~~~~
                                thick thighroots, driving earths centre
             ~~~~~~~~~~ supporting my staunched resolve~~~~~~~~~  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~holding firm to claim my part ~~my history~~~~~~~~~~~

For Trees Personified contest
By Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

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Sequoia Tears

Sequoia Tears Centuries she stood Her reach flowing deep Breathing life from the earth Exhaling eternity within space and time Acknowledging her magnificence I bow I listen as her stories she tells Her tears wash over me My spirit freed
...oh what devastation something as insignificant as mankind has caused ~08/24/2015

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An Oak Tree

In our garden an oak tree stands tall above all creation. 
This oak tree has broad shoulders and a firm foundation.

There are powerful branches reaching up to the sky,
giving many birds a place to nest or rest as they fly.

Watching carefully there is more than you first see.
This oak tree is structured much like a community. 

Like families each bud springs out so fresh and new.
When they mature some of these sport a different hue. 

When the wind blows you can hear them all chatter. 
Each leaf feels important and they say they matter.

In the autumn of life, a community grows a bit older.
There’s less light and things become harder to shoulder.

These leaves eventually fade and fall from the tree,
becoming a memory as each leaf becomes a retiree.

After their passing all will understand there is a reason.
A new generation will be here and it will be their season.

August 22, 2015
For contest: Trees Personified