Jeff W. Watson | + Follow Poet |
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My Poet-Tree

Under the colorful leaves 
Of my Poet-tree
The Autumn breeze
Blows one off and it spirals slowly
Down for me To read

I pick it up off the ground
And looking around
I hear no sound
On a big mushroom I sit down
To read the poem I’d found

The poem’s title is this,
“Hymns to Him that Is”
The entire poem dedicated to His
Goodness and Greatness
Total Love and Bliss

Another leaf flutters off and falls
But halfway down it stalls
In the Butterfly’s halls
The Poet-tree leaf calls
The poems of ancient Goths and Galls

Needful things
Indeed will bring
A song to sing
On the wings
Of The Dancing

I must read what I’ve written
Read out loud and listen
With my own words I’m smitten
The words on the page glisten
Like a newborn puppy or kitten

Another leaf falls down to the earth
And lands inside a little firth
Another poem is given birth
I read the lines for what they’re worth
And sing a song of joy and mirth

I catch a leaf from out of the air
Not to break it I had a care
I read the words written there
It was a poem of loss and despair
The words upon it I must share

In Sandman Sound
Rough seas abound
There my little ship is found
Being battered and tossed around
‘Till I ran aground

On a far distant shore I landed
On a deserted isle I’m stranded
I don’t know what my hand did
They say it’s there I planned it
That’s all too outlandish

Sometimes I get stuck in a rut
And I don’t know from which cloth I am cut
Am I just a poetry writing nut?
Ahhhh, but I’m just a mutt
Who writes what’s in his heart, soul, mind and gut

They say the play’s the thing
I say a poem can be just as inspiring
They can both bring about singing and dancing
Or a sense of loss and longing
That’s why to them life I bring

A poem is a labor of love
It’s a gift to us from God above
Of course, it depends on what the poem is of
A good poem fits the writer’s hand like a dove
And will soar high on wings of a dove

Years later they call me a wise old sage
I gathered up all the leaves and made page after page
To share poems with you is my poet’s wage
You too can write poems no matter your age
Poems that inspire and engage

I’m not a sage just a wise old fool
I find that writing poems is cool
And because my personality is dual
I don’t always follow meter and rhyme as a rule
And I’m not always invited to swim in the poet’s pool

So make your own rules I say to you all
And when your poet-tree leaves start to fall
Follow that God given call
And paste your leaves on every wall and hall
And join the dancing at the poet-tree writer’ ball

Copyright © Jeff W. Watson | Year Posted 2021

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