in the
aged
pear tree
which has
several
dead
gray, peeling
limbs
a catbird
calls to
his mate
a nurturing
love affair
intense, passionate
his steadfast
love
for his mate~~
admirable
robins swoosh around
up and down the pear tree stands
gails blew pollen dusts
robins left the tree
fearing a storm will blow hard
the pear tree was sad
a new pair dropped by
finches revel with raindrops
pear tree smiled, birds soothed
What kind of a tree is that? I asked Santa with a bit of glee.
He smiled his mirth and amusement but did not actually answer me.
You should be able to tell just by looking said my cousin Wee.
She is always a spoil setter, and usually not so nice to thee.
Partridge in a pear tree! Partridge in a pair tree! Right Santy?
This was my other little cousin, but I forgave him, for he is three.
Yes, Santa said with a nod, letting this little bitty guy know.
Then bam, he was gone, back to the land of the snow.
Did he take that PIAPT with him? My grandma asked me.
No, he left it decorated next to the fire, to amuse thee.
He’s a great guy! She said with a sigh, and know why?
She used to date the real Santa, and this is no lie.
Near the curb, by the right of way;
Next to the street;
Over onto the sidewalk;
Where pedestrians stalk;
Twit the grasses trespasses;
A wild pear tree full of fruit
Double down swarming with bees;
Flying round;
No one is picking nor eating them;
Children that go to school even ignore them;
As I’m sitting next up against the curb;
I’m thinking sure, this early morning sure would be good,
To just git a sample a taste of the pears on the tree;
Next to me
8/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021 ©
robin’s olfactory serves not
the stinky pear tree —
Spring blossoms like a bride
fishy-catch of the day
3/13/2021
Silver bells charm young listeners,
As scintillating trinkets are admired,
Golden baubles reflect the smiles,
Delighted squeals escape from ecstatic lips as,
Unending wreaths of love and faith eye,
Mistletoe hung up so high,
To watch over as mysterious figures,
Hurry to pack up surprise delights,
In beaten sheets of silver,
Red ribbons to ensure,
That hope finds each child,
As fountains sing a song their own,
Partridges sing in pear trees,
As swans swim in crystal lakes,
And four calling birds all cry,
We declare to all hereby,
The Twelve Days of Christmas are best to fare,
Wishing you a Merry Christmas this year.
I know I'm surely not the most beautiful tree
For my leaves and form are really quite plain
All year I quietly stand and bide my time
In the fall I bear fruit, the waiting not in vain..
Finally my branches yield globes of green an gold
I bear their weight with pride and such delight
With reluctant pleasure at last I let them go
My yearly efforts a beautiful fall delight...
The season passes and comes the rain and snow
Then it seems in a much different role I'm cast
For a lovely partridge on my branch will perch
And just perhaps I am really beautiful at last......
8/5/15
aware in a bottle garden,
a pear tree
diminished...
saddened so
---------------------------------------------------------
2/17/2015
Contest - Strand Special 11
Sponsor - Brian Strand
2nd place win
Featured poem of the week commencing 8/16/2020.
The bursting blossom of a pear tree twist and swirl with a lavishing beauty,
Promising plenty of fruit along each smooth branch and bough delivering all,
Rosebushes buds red buds burst into leaves with fresh dew dripping on grass,
A shy foxglove shakes in soft breeze hides her sweet face behind new leaves.
The taccamahac a name to deal with blazes yellow across the heaths and downs
They grin as you walk down old lanes forgotten fields and old secret places,
The chestnut's pale sticky leaves glisten in deep woods with every sun beam,
And the mighty oak tree whispers to the sun, "Let us have one day's warmth."
The hedges are impatient blackthorn blossom gone now showing hints of green,
It's not winter nor summer it's natures no-mans-land mint essence in the air,
The cuckoo sits on a bare branch besides young buds once he sings it's spring
Then greenness will steal across country, streams boil, and mead's will dry.
To see the beautiful grandeur that is
the twining's of the rose and the pear tree.
Is something that you don't forget.
And I haven't since I was three.
The pear tree has stood the test of time,
From weather to kids on tire swings.
It's heavily blossomed, snow white each year
and home to many birds on the wing
The rose bush is a thorn filled Rambler,
Of the deepest red I have ever seen.
It refuses to be tamed or tied,
With even the toughest string.
Each spring Grandma and Grandpa
would have dreams of a fence covered in rose.
But it ended the same each year
with the rose going where it wanted to grow.
You could not complain about the beauty,
that would greet your eye each time
You entered the backyard and saw,
White blossoms and red roses entwined
To see the beautiful granduer that is
the twining's of the rose and the pear tree.
Is something that you don't forget.
And I haven't since I was three.
The pear tree has stood the test of time,
From weather to kids on tire swings.
It's heavily blossomed, snow white each year
and home to many birds on the wing
The rose bush is a thorn filled Rambler,
Of the deepest red I have ever seen.
It refuses to be tamed or tied,
With even the toughest string.
Each spring Grandma and Grandpa
would have dreams of a fence covered in rose.
But it ended the same each year
with the rose going where it wanted to grow.
You could not complain about the beauty,
that would greet your eye each time
You entered the backyard and saw,
White blossoms and red roses entwined
Pear tree tall erect
Loaded with ripe fruit to pick
Pear perserves, pickles
there you stand in my garden
looking at us all
waving with the wind
protecting us all
giving us food each year
staring at the the garden
the top of the garden is where you rest
providing a home for others to lie
there you stand
the protector
the hero
the pear tree
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