Beech Poems - Poems about Beech

Beech Forest Berries There is nothing like fresh picked summer berries. Yet, there can be a price one may pay to have them. Not a huge price, more an adjustment. High bush blueberries along the Beech forest path Are delicious but… Beware the mosquitoes and deer flies. I made the mistake of not protecting myself just once. Swarmed by the biting hordes, I...

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Why does Ms. Breech teach children? She doesn’t even like kids! From the mouth of a five-year-old our “teacher of the year” would hold a grudge forever against this innocent honest five-year-old, if she knew. I guess no one told the selection committee how many students despise school after kindergarten here wonder if being boss’s cousin has something to do with her...

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Turn to quenching winds; cherish what you can't see. Learn to study vastness rippling at sea. Birds watch you from high as they tranquilly soar. Words elevated mend a heart that's sore. Songs of praise are the greatest compliment. Strong and gentle, our natures complement. Thoughts of gratitude charm, expressed aloud. Cots, blankets, and laughter are allowed. Shells cling to sea rocks; we...

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Where gray shadows lurk beneath the towering beech A kaleidoscope of color seeks to linger in the space Where bare brown leaves cover the sunrays cannot reach, Where gray shadows lurk beneath the towering beech Squirrels battle for nuts, while tiny chipmunks screech. And I, I am content to observe the habitat, this place, Where gray shadows lurk beneath the towering...

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Oh how I hate the winter where my limbs are exposed and seen I just adore the springtime; 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...

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The swamp is covered with marigold The smell is reminiscent of ballads of the old The creatures living there are eerie but have hearts of gold Many stories of this place are told Beyond the swamp large clearing lays Above it owl at night often flies Between the clearing and the forest Forest in which nightingale sings his choirs There lies cemetery under...

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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...

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W I N D F A L L M A S T F A I R...

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The ole beech tree has so many memories and so much history They say you can figure the age of a tree by the circles around But on this ole beech there are far too many circles for me to count The ole beech tree provides us with shade from the sun It's also close to the place we shoot our guns The...

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