Best Maples Poems
Many are the maples that encircle my home, my nest, my dwelling abode,
And in the dark of night they tap on my frosty windows, crying;
Past their deathly stance, a wintry scene,
Looking through their tangled limbs snow is falling, endlessly.
Everything in my world is icy white, sky and earth mingling,
Soon, I whisper to them, you will be wearing your emerald gowns;
Creaking and groaning they mumble in their frozen rest,
Reaching out gnarled fingers to me.
Yes, my dears, soon, so soon you will stand in resplendence,
Ice and snow will be replaced with fringes of delicate, filigree green;
Now rest, now sleep maples sweet,
Gather your memories of spring, summer and fall close and dream.
_____________________________
February 3, 2013
Poetry/Acrostic/Maples Crying
Copyright Protected, ID 02-454-132-03
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Best Short Acrostic Poem
Sponsor, Andrea Dietrich, Judged 02/2013
Second Place
Montage of Autumn flows
Marked by minty trees ...lush!
Mauve-gold leaves whirl a prance
Melding shade for couples -
Moonlight foliage thralls
Mood's magic brings rapture
Maple moments of Fall !
first kiss of autumn love
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Maples have long life spans
Most are deciduous
Makes great stringed instruments
Many have bright fall hues
Marked by crimson and gold
Much loved by bird species
Marvelous bell shaped blooms
I heard them groaning
I heard the chainsaws sawing--
the maples lay dead
_______________________
October 16, 2013
Poetry/Senryu/dead maples
Copyright Protected, ID 10-513-335-16
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, Senryu,
sponsor, Black Eyed Susan, Judged 2013
Honorable Mention
In the very warm May' afternoon,
I decided to take a stroll instead of being blue,
and getting a little adventurous was to discover
another pansy or violet bloom;
these flowers were the precious gifts of a little and frivolous lover,
who gave them to the prettiest ones who loved a boy in pursue:
and as the rain fell on the maples,
they giggled like silly kids hiding their dimples...
And who was listening what they were whispered?
The songbirds that watched them from the dripping, thick branches,
perhaps learning some of the human behavior from the tenderest ones,
who were quite funny and silly, and made great chums;
gitty was a word they did not comprehend,
but happily they chirped to make them glide and dance:
until their enthusiasm and frenzy did fray,
and they stopped, overcome by their fraility...
And would their sentinel's eyes move away and focus
on the unhappy butterflies that failed to flaunt their skills,
on the meadow of dandelions I waited to be chased,
but birds and butterflies flew away to warn me of a foul play:
with the fury of an impeding storm, they jumped on me
and began tickling my bare feet, to make me pay for my teasing;
delirious as a frantic clown, I laughed too hard to beg for mercy,
but they, the clever ones, ran off and left me screaming...
And as the rain fell on the maples, the haw-keyed Weimaraner
came to lick my cheeks, to give me comfort for my defeat,
and he barked and beckoned me to follow him to a nearby hiding:
there the brats were plotting their next michievous scheme
by water-filled balloons and a heap of shaving cream,
as they instructed one another how to surprise me in my retreat;
and as the rain fell on the maples towards early evening,
all their flabby plans came to an end, unable to outsmart their admirer...
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
“The Turning of Leaves”
While walking down a
Forest trail
I came upon
A most beautiful sight
Much to my delight
A forest floor covered
In multitudes
Of yellows, oranges,
And crimson reds.
Fluttering about on a chiffon breeze
These jewels from summer’s past fell
Stitching blankets for queens
As they lie in midnight dreams
I stopped along this forest path
To claim a few and marvel at
This palette of beauty unseen
Just days before.
I reach to fill my arms
With their beautiful hues
And musky scents.
A gift to my lover
For her intimate desires
As I reach
I hear a rustling
Beneath my feet.
So lovely a voice
It spoke to me
As in a lullaby.
“Please let me be
I’m here to please.”
I’m soon to drift asleep
Under these blankets of
Majestic hues.
Much like you
I’ll awaken one day
To greening vales,
Flowering meadows, and
The new birth of these forest trees
Of
Maples, Oaks and Aspen leaves.
Treasure this Treasure.
As you contemplate your Greystone Years
You’ll drift through life’s many doors.
Many wars and relentless fears,
Many dreams and newborn themes,
Many leaves you will have turned,
And many springs yet to come
You’ll ask
Why isn’t the world as pretty as this scene?
Bleeding Sugar maples drip by drip
as a child, I'd oft steal a sip.
02/27/2023
A New Crystalline - Any Theme
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Maples thrive in autumn
Mature leaves change colors
Melange of rustic hues
Maroon, umber and gold
Mortality in flight
Mother trees left weeping
Mourning 'til early Spring
FORESTS OF NORWAY MAPLES
Every day we reviewed them in parade attitude
Along the Snake River in the Tetons’ solitude,
Or at attention on the banks of the Volga
In the infinite taiga -
In neat ranks along river terraces
Warm dark firs mixed with yellow acer,
All with the wind slowly leaning,
Their branches across the river-ice signalling
To great endless squadrons of their fellows :
In spring with their full flowers - yellows :
An army in a gold and topaz uniform
Ready and waiting for orders to fall in and conform ;
And in fall with their rich golden foliage
Always polished and ready for duty with courage.
In poor soil, in tough climate, these were heroes
Prepared for all their tomorrows.
Each morning we watched “Reveille” parade
In the dawn’s early light; and the evening shade
Gave “taps” for that heroic multitude -
The taiga’s topaz army, in golden solitude.
kiss of light, embracing, promising quiet
breathless joy, comforting with kind, gentle sighs
whispering leaves, softly waltzing, can’t deny it
wonders, inspired, brilliant desires who chastise
forests bring whimsical wonders to riot
playing gaily, summer’s goodbye to revise
history reminds the heart who laughs shyly
autumn trembles its teasing flourish, slyly
Maple trees- you stand tall
Meeting October's change-
Melding to burnished golds.
Midst our Autumn splendor-
Mark shedding as goodbye.
Meer naked, you'll sleep till
March- as buds wake again.
I saw the maples;
Chattering with the spruce;
Sparrows awaken;
Squirrels recused;
Running rapid;
Are those rabbits;
Dogs chasing still the cat up the tree;
God where are all the honey bees;
By the grave I saw the maples;
The lonely liquidambar leafing;
I felt obliged to admire the Rameses;
~
The bur oak smiled;
As the trees of all kinds;
Lo! The sun dials;
Waves with the wind in the skies;
Do just only the butterflies mind;
For the maple leaves fallen down;
By the grave I saw the maples;
Onto the grounds are browned and dead;
The lonely liquidambar leafing;
Tree, tree, trees;
Memories;
Dread;
~
Homeless one I am;
I guess under their shade I’ll be sleeping;
Living off the land;
Alone sleeping;
7/6/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2021
April 30, 2020
Silver Maples In Spring:
Sunlight seeps through Spring’s enlightening air
Trading snowy blankets for muddy grass.
White crystal trees will wake up to be bare,
As warm gold waves drip from a blue canvas
Feeding the still starving skeletal frame
Of slippery Silver Maples holding
Red buds to blossom in the morning flame
To become sharp bright green leaves exploding
Within the canopy like shimmering
Fireworks celebrating nature’s rebirth.
Red Cardinals and chickadees are chirping
Gentle songs as the soundtrack for the earth.
Spring Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored By: Emile Pinet
Majestic maple trees,
Mixed coloured autumn leaves.
Mirrored on cool waters,
Montage miscellanies.
Myrtle, flame, silvered streaks,
Magenta, edged with gold,
Moonlight bliss, lovers kiss.
10 / 16 / 2024.