I AM A TEXAS COTTONWOOD TREE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An old but wise Texas Cottonwood am I,
with twisted bark, I'm rooted where Trinity River runs by.
Arid winds whisper through my leaves and bone-white branches—
constantly rattling, like a rattlesnake poised to strike.
As dusk falls, coyotes gather under my shadow,
their shrill cries joining the prairie and the starry Texas skies.
I watch over hawk nests, house cicada songs, and
carry memories of Comanche campfires long since gone.
I am a sentinel grand, standing where lightning split my brother,
rooted in history and the scorching Texas sun.
my castle is twenty-six foot high in the top of two cottonwood trees
My daddy made it for me, he called it a tree house, but it is my fort.
My refuge, my camouflage, my hearth, my home.
I can sit here all day with a pillow, a swig of water and seven books.
I would make it eleven books, but the library is chintzy.
They will only allow me to check out seven a day.
My castle is where I go when I want to remember the best days of my childhood.
Summer days, when I could do what I wanted when I wanted.
though it has been fifty years, I can hear neighbor’s voices, and I smile.
Remembering their conversations, their arguments, their personalities.
I will never have a castle any better than this.
cottonwood tree trunk
sparkles with silver sequins
a gorgeous array
Poems are much like cottonwood seeds,
Filling the air as they float in the breeze.
We hope our efforts find fertile soil
And our seeds take root, rewarding our toil.
Exposed and vulnerable, they may never land
Or they may be clutched in a grateful hand.
We send them by faith, our deepest expressions
Hoping they land and yield fruitful impressions.
Keep sowing your seed, write on lovely poets!
You may plant a cottonwood, mighty and stoic!
Grandmother Cottonwood’s leaves glistened.
Shaking their silver sides against the breeze.
Glossy and pointedly sculpted, a few listened.
As her main twig rolled up his sleeve.
I had not seen a talking tree since Babes in Toyland.
Expected some marching and a mariachi band.
The woods were unnaturally quiet and stark still.
North wind providing a coldish autumn chill.
pink catkins
of eastern cottonwood-
happy offspring
tree flowering
in the sun-
beaver waits patiently
moon shines
upon her coral blossoms-
cricket chirps
Naked are all the cottonwood trees
Arms are limbs waving leaves hands
Shaken clapping falling to the ground
~
Over November's plight bleached nights
Images surroundings bright-white
Icy spears hangs off houses roof tops
~
Temperatures spiral continue to drop
Snow shovel the snow it covers the streets
Plow the debris that nature leaves
~
Environment is quiet the sky's and grounds are
So white everything in sight is powdered in snow
Even the deteriorating leaves that cease to be,
~ naked are the cottonwood trees~
2/15/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Many years have passed, many a day gone at length.
Since that delta farm and that old pump from which I drank.
Its water clear and cool flowing from a spring,
gone, are those faded years yet, to the memories, I cling
Now, only thoughts of those long fields
from the cottonwood tree where I rest,
That summer sun on my brow, and on my mind impressed.
Here under this old tree this poem I now compose,
Lines to that summer sun and to those cotton rows.
The old house is gone now, cotton grows where it stood.
The only thing that marks the spot, this ragged old cottonwood.
I sit here in silence and gaze at the setting sun,
I hear over there, a ripple of water, where The Cold Water River runs.
A picture of past years now, gone like a morning mist.
The ghost of a life that puts my soul at rest.
In the mind of this man sitting where a boy once stood,
I put my pen to paper under the limbs of the cottonwood.
Therefore, let the moon shine over those fields of white,
Let the wind blow against my cheeks on this mystic night.
Let my dreams take me back to a time when I stood,
Gazing over fields of cotton from the shade of the cottonwood.
In my neighborhood
mighty high cottonwood trees
leaves big as man hand
~
mighty strong long tall
aged minimum rings 30 old
high as mountain top
~
mighty cottonwood
rising high above other trees
firm strong and mighty
11/9/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
centered cottonwood
gracious leaves waves, where tree stands,
stellar before God
8/29/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Tall cottonwood tree
it is leafy and solid
with falling broad leaves
and many awesome branches
as it drools letting go leaves
10/17/20
James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Mighty Autumn Cottonwood
lustrous bright green
windbreaks shadow providing
leaves as wide as a hand waving
trees asset in wildlife
PENSEE Poetry Form
9/28/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
perfect mate nearby
wind scatters cottony tufts-
a summer snowfall
8/20/2019
Howmanysyllables 5-7-5
Poetry Contest: Tree Themed Haiku
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
pink catkins
of eastern cottonwood-
happy offspring
tree flowering
in the sun-
beaver waits patiently
moon shines
upon her coral blossoms-
cricket chirps
fluffing silver leaves
cottonwood steadies herself
glittering my heart.
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