Cypress Tree Poems - Poems about Cypress Tree

...Carmel-By-The-Sea, CA is 114 miles from my home in San Francisco. It's home to my friend Jane (a former fellow worker) she now finds California's central coastline to be the next best place t......

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... He climbed to the top of a tall cypress tree All his fertile countryside world he could see His father’s fields, neighbor’s houses, and kin folk’s, too For seventeen years, the only world he kne......

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...I sleep to visit You in Your dreams, oh my Esteemed - a gauche novitiate, there like a Laureate You receive me to learn Your secrets, there wisdom is served like as one planted, ......

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...Note: This poem is the twin poem for "She Speaks for the Dead." This one is in the mockingbird's perspective. I perch upon the locked gate, awaiting the deepest hour of night. My abode is ......

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...art inspires me, Van Gogh fascinates me!                                    vermillion sky, glowing sunshine, rose-branches waltzing, birds chirping melo......

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...Luna’s image reflects on flat water; she smiles at her likeness and ripples softly quiver. Beneath the glinting surface another universe exists where subaqueous creatures live, busy in their nests......

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...Author: Runping Chen In his mother’s eyes, The child is dragging her coat brim; On father’s broad shoulders, I am still weak and young. Today, the swallows are trying a fly While I am also ab......

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..."And now I drink a toast to your coffin. May it be fashioned of lumber obtained from a hundred-year-old cypress tree whose seed will germinate this year." Rob Brezsny Refrain: And now ......

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...LaLaurie house of slaves with it's beauty of grand parlors that glowed with hundreds of candles to light your way while guest dined and danced, lived the Creole lady Madame LaLaurie. It ......

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...My love do you remember when we met? At the Rubandikarya corner near the gigantic cypress tree, An old sport known for romance, Where lovers used to meet evening hours? And they would do their ro......

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...Play Not A Dirge When I Am Gone Play not a dirge when I am gone; light no candles, not even one. A treasured poem would be enough to mark my end when curtain’s drawn. Hold no sad wakes......

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...Smoking crack in a house in an unfamiliar neighborhood with unfamiliar faces. The fear pouring out of my pours like the piss on the couch I'm sitting in coming from the numerous dogs and cats in this......

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...The laggard flow of fresh water With scattered pads of green Tall blades of sawgrass stretch around the bank A lingering fog hovers Sun is trying to sneak through with its warm rays Liche......

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...In the wee hours of the morning When the owls and imps were upon the marsh We would take our old pirogue and paddle into the darkness Our intent was to catch bullfrogs but anything was game We were ......

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...The mist rises inches above the water An angel of silence holds back her tears. Cypress knees jerk And the egret slides silently through the mist The swamp is a sacred place. Inches of water hold a......

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