Cona Adams Poet Rhyme

Oh, Joyce

PoetryForm:Apostrophe						                        				
Oh, Joyce
(A salute to Joyce Kilmer)

How could you know of molten skies
burning my skin to fiery glow
as trails of sweat ran ever down,
except to walk the same hard row?

You must have lifted flaming face
to catch the waft of cooling flow
as leaves stirred air upon your neck
bent down to guide the whack of hoe.

You must have stood beneath its arms
and held your frame secure inside
a shade cast out by wide-swept limbs
to draw sweet breath upon a sigh.

Your pictured trees bespoke my heart
your words remained a lifelong song.
Each time I viewed a splendid tree
came once again warm thoughts of thee.

Though faith is rare in Darwin’s sphere
your message still rings loud and clear.
Poems are made by fools like me
but only God can make a tree.

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John Fleming November 24, 2015 at 5:51 AM A wonderful little poem, Cona! Yes indeed...God is the only constant in any of their equations - They just do not know it yet. My very best regards, Cona! :) john Cona Adams November 24, 2015 at 6:27 AM Thank you, John. The poem "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer, was the only poem I memorized as a child, but I have always loved it. I, too, love trees, and wrote a poem titled, "Trees I Have Known." Thanks for reading, and for your generous comment. All the best.

Ilene Bauer November 23, 2015 at 7:01 PM i've missed seeing your poems here, cona! this one is wonderful... Cona Adams November 24, 2015 at 6:29 AM Yes, Ilene. I have missed PoetrySoup too. I have been busy writing a book, but my absence here is temporary, I assure you. Thanks for the visit. Blessings to you.