Gnarly Marly smelled like barley
Stinking up her old man’s Harley
He was a tough guy who did not mind
Secretly a marshmallow, always immensely kind
They rode their hog in all kinds of weather
Marly perched on the back like a cardinal feather
Her man Chuckie was a rare and odd find
With a Harley that was always waxed and shined
Gnarly is cozy in his winter best today
His clothes were a gift from Mrs. Claus,
a uniform like Santa’s complete with red hat
His is knitted, even warmer than Santa’s maybe
He gets out his favorite Christmas book
Begins to read, loving the cozy plaid pillows.
Where did they come from?
Who did he need to thank?
He fell asleep in his soft hammock,
Guessing so many of his friends.
The possibilities were endless.
This is what happens when you are a Christmas gnome.
Everyone in Christmas town brings you something.
By the time he woke up, his entire hammock was decorated
With pine, red ribbons, ornaments and lovely pine cones.
My life is the best! The gnome said with joyful gratitude.
gnarly gray goat was so plain, he was embarrassed by it.
he collected florals from garden and dressed up with wit.
thought he looked terrific, showed off his petals a bit.
behind his back other goats called him a simple nitwit.
gnarly squirrels nest
too high for a tall giraffe
shelters one baby
He was a snarly, gnarly, encumbered tree root.
Diving into the earth in the most twisted, gnarly way.
His attitude was gnarly too, and he was thickening.
Why me? He demanded. What did I ever do?
There was only silence until a curious worm stopped by.
The worm had all kinds of questions for him.
Most he could not answer, but it intrigued him
That an earthworm could talk oak. So they became friends
And he became less caustic, less grouchy, and more open.
Life as he knew it before, a distant memory.
Gnarly exposed tree roots
Sheltering the fey
Pops of purple violets
With dash of yellow
Adorning in quiet ways
Mischievous forest pixies
Prancing in silence
Discover this oak is hollow
Build an apartment house
Using twigs, grass, and mud.
Wood elves join them
Led by cosmic faeries
All bearing gifts for neighbors
Rugs, toasters, beds,
Ethereal celebration in oak tree heights
Silence loaded
With some concoction
Of apathy
Disdain
Entitlement
An attitude that screams
”It’s all about me
I don’t care much about anyone else”
That empty glare blatantly defiant
That glows in the dark
A humongous neon sign
Flashing in big red letters
“I choose the few I care about
And that’s not you
I’m going to make your life hell”
Dark princess with devil horns
And chunks of coal for a heart
You may still be fooling some
But not me ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
A gnarly oak,
resembling
the Gorgon
Medusa;
sends serpentine roots
twisting and squirming,
into the dank
forest floor.
Its skeletal limbs
seem to claw their way
out of a fog bank:
bony fingers
dripping droplets
of morning dew
onto the dry leaves
scattered beneath
barren branches.
As Autumn breezes
blow away
the morning fog
concealing
its mossy boughs:
twigs poke through
a sullied shroud;
freeing this
ancient Goliath,
from its cocoon
of misty white.
Greeting the day's offerings, we cat souls
Were watching for scampering voles and moles.
Five vigilant cousins and I, perched up high,
watching the sun rise in the eastern sky.
From our perch in the gnarly gumdrop tree,
We surveyed the meadow, calm as we could be.
The grays and tans of a gentle morn,
Brought forth tasty mice, who were soon forlorn.
September day, offers so much lively meat on the ground.
We sneaked up stealthily, me and my brigade, profound.
We pounced, and the critters were goners for sure.
Their meat tasty, and fresh, and decidedly pure.
Our daily hunt, is so much fun, in this tree.
My cousins, my brother, my dad, and me.
We all do this, every single morn.
Making the little creatures feel forlorn.
the gnarly oak
is there a message
in its new leaves
As vines and entwine so do
families, families born to climb…
Through the years and centuries they
continue to grow, larger and larger
as they climb…
The older they get the more tangled
and gnarly the vines and families get…
At last a family tree has been
born for the future to take notice
and grow…
By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2011
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