Constance La France Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

Poetry/Rhyme/Winter/AI Free
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1783-603-05
All Rights Reserved, 2025, Constance LaFrance
Copying any part of this poem is prohibited

Written, December 05, 2025
For the International Contest,  Seasons
Sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 12/05/2025

~  BEAUTIFUL  ~

Winter

I started my life as a whirly 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 lived two hundred years.

The seasons changed me and in winter I stood proudly,
winter stripped me of my green dress and put snow on my branches;
over time, my tree friends were cut down to make space,
for houses, but I remained through many snow storm avalanches.

For years, I was alone with the birds and squirrels,
and sometimes stray homeless cats hid in my leaves;
I loved the wind in my branches except in winter,
because in winter the howling winds whirled about like thieves.

My leaves changed from emerald to red-orange, then withered,
oh, how children liked collecting the bright colors from under me;
and how I adored the feel of the pretty snowflakes falling and caressing;
soon, the snow covered me in a gown pure white and feathery.
 
The men who came on a cold day cared not that I was a symbol of strength,
they did not care that I would have stood for three hundreds of years this spring;
and although, I expect it . . . .  the first cut was agony, and I screamed,
soon, I lay dying in the winter snow and to my last breath of life I did cling.

Three hundred years wiped out in a few hours on a winter day,
the forest weeps each time an ancient tree is killed with saws and machete;
winter will continue and in spring there will be no trace of this old tree,
my last thoughts ... oh, what of the animals who took shelter in me.

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Ann Peck December 6, 2025 at 2:11 PM Your beautiful poem brought tears. A very old tree can do that. Thank you for writing about nature with such kindness. Constance La France December 8, 2025 at 1:54 AM Ann, thank you for your compassion for nature, the destruction of an ancient tree/trees is heartbreaking, and for the compliment, Constance ~

John Lawless December 6, 2025 at 5:56 AM Constance, this brought me back to second grade and one of my lifetime favorite poems..."Woodman, Spare That Tree, by George Pope Morris. your's is a masterfully done job of personifying the tree and its feelings. A definite FAVE.... Constance La France December 8, 2025 at 1:59 AM John, thank you for the comment and compliment, and FAV, I find the destruction of even one old tree hard to justify, Constance

Paige Hind December 5, 2025 at 10:14 PM This is so heartwrenching. I love trees. You wrote a beautiful but very sad poem that lingers in the mind...all that haunting imagery. Constance La France December 8, 2025 at 2:05 AM Paige, thank you for the comment and lovely compliment, blessings, Constance ~

Hilda Greenhough December 5, 2025 at 9:06 PM Thank you for writing this poem. Trees are out down and not replaced. It's sad. Constance La France December 8, 2025 at 2:11 AM Hilda, thank you for the comment and compliment, yes a tree with history is of no value in this society, blessings, Constance ~