Pine-Ing To Gossip
Hush, can you hear?
So soft and yet so clear,
are the whispers of the forest.
You may think it is the breeze,
but listen closely and you'll see,
the wind's as absent as can be.
Indeed it is the whispers,
the sly whispers of the trees.
I hear them when I'm on my own,
entranced beside the moonlit lake.
They wonder why I'm sad, so sad,
and try to cheer my solemn soul,
with jokes and laughs and Billy Joel.
Such company can be a treat,
so when my heart does allow,
I whisper back, the trees and I.
I sometimes act as their spy,
in places where the trees are few.
I whisper to the trees alone,
all dank and limp beside the road.
The one thing I never knew,
was how they loved to gossip so.
For as a present of our friendship,
I bought the latest mags and comics.
Now lie, I do, beside the pines,
reciting the celebrity times.
Date: 06.11.2020
Contest: Whisper to Me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Copyright © Charlotte Watkins | Year Posted 2020
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