Spruces Poems | Examples

A Fragrant Lily Field By The Serene Bay

I'm standing on a fragrant lily field
by the serene bay towards midnoon,
falcons gather by the splashing rocks
with eyes that scare away hungry larks;
they must catch their prey and be fed:
they'll attack with their claws a buffoon
who laughs and breaks the stiff stillness,
stumbling down the shell-strewn dunes! 


One can see the wide wings of geese
that flap hard against the spiritless air
before encountering the menacing storm;
they faintly honk over the grove of fir... 
then, they vanish from sight to divert fear:
happy was their spring and they did perform
eloquently to delight senses and release
a sound merrier than that of a flycatcher! 


The sea-breeze turns into violent gusts,
they roar bending beeches and spruces;
drowsy seagulls feel the blast of incoming rain,
they refuse to leave their haven huddling closer....
thinking it won't last to endure useless disdain:
should I heed the warning and run faster than a deer?
I have a half mile to go before I can defy the insidious threat;
my clothes are getting drenched, but I don't show any fret!

Upon a Winters Outing

Upon a winter’s outing I
a lovely cottage did espy;
of lovely blues with snow atop.
How I would love to have stopped,
just for a chat with merry folk,
whose home of happiness bespoke.

Within my car, I sat and sketched,
this lovely winter blissfulness.
On tree branch, sat a bird, a’twitter;
he was cold but, clearly not bitter.
Blue spruces dotted white landscape,
red maples reveal buds, new-birthed.

Some cattails waved behind a hedge,
the half-scraped sidewalk invited guests,
as an old red fox, behind house lurked.
but I thought better of my artwork.
So I sketched all that I could,
finishing as twilight lowered its hood.

As moon peeped up from among the clouds,
I perused my sketch, head bowed;
A tap upon the window I heard.
Imagine the surprise that occurred
when owner of that lovely place,
invited me in for hot tea and cakes!

You Select Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
1-20-2023

Chasing Colors

I
-- Stopped to chat: at the one store open
This second day of 2023 here:
Where a month from mid- December
Is the usual "holiday" for child & worker -- 
Mr. L saw me rush off chasing something
This new time had crimson skies, painting
I had not ever seen. Walked a mile
Down near the darkening sky, westward
And back as crimson faded into lines
Of orange, parallel lines; spruces behind
Greater pines behind in art in two colors
Blue background, crimson lines and forests

II
The darkening blue skies swallowed, gently
Bit by bit, the crimson that made me run
Down the hill, Kerk St., Adelaide, and back
To enjoy the gentler breeze at 8-0-clock
And dream of the vision of hope, I saw
From the Hand that might have made me

Forest Stream

Give ear to stream blowing rough ground
Vying spreading plain voice
Spring wind swings spruces blown around
In the calm vale of choice

Yields a cool, clean dwelling
On a calm sea, whistling
Lifestream contemplating

Swept by the dream
Give ear to stream


Written: February 05, 2022

Color-Filled Caroler Skipping Rope

*Giphy of Loving Vincent by Theofy.
AUDIO: Windmills, sung by Springfield

Color-Filled Caroler Skipping Rope
A girl entrance per color-filled rhyme, hope
          that each beat will equal, her skipping rope

I never sensed that while blue kisses green
   be teal moths, spruces, and an ocean scene
      and when you change only the green to red

      purple plums, lilacs, sweet potatoes spread
   yet if green rebounds and expends the blue
yellow chicks, lemons, bunch bananas grew

          every color when crossed, yield a fresh hue
rainbow phases painting a world brand new.

2021 August 22

When Plains Become Deserts Life Dies Forever

Flowers need much rain,
their petals are very dry,  
their stems are too weak;
Nature's future is bleak,
draught is a terrible bane, 
not a boon for a butterfly!

Clouds are thin, transparent, and frail,
and soon will lament and scorch...
meeting the flaming hot torch;
silent ravens hide in the branches
of the spruces where they sadly chill!

Glaciers melt and grizzling bears wander, 
whales migrate from the Western Hemisphere
to the farthest ends of the North Hemisphere;  
floods increase and cities are drowning in water.

Most emotions are stirred by true feelings,
and not having these is expressing sadness;
is the above sun a life-giver or a destroyer,
can it burn all the grass with its scorching heat,
not leave a trace of it and induce a bitter bleat?
When plains become deserts life dies forever!

At End of May

After summer spruces up in full array
When peonies have graced the graves
At end of May, I shall go far, far away
After summer spruces up in full array
Where some folks, who know, blithely say
‘Tis Beulah Land the righteous soul craves
After summer spruces up in full array
When peonies have graced the graves.


written May 20, 2021

The Resplendent Morning Disperses Its Light

I'm struggling to wake up,
rubbing my sensitive eyelids,
I may need more sleep;
awesome is the resplendent
morning dispersing its light,
I perceive it as a sumptuous woman
wearing a green dress as Nature does!

The first thing I do is to whisper
a prayer different in tone and meaning,
my thankfulness to Him transcends a feeling
that reflects an immense appreciation for the precious life 
I am living and not projecting emotions felt as trite...
always rendering them profound and equally fair!

The golden gleams of an awakening sun,
crown the tops of the Longleaf pines with diamonds,
not those that wealthy women wear at a ball to be noticed;
these sunbeams rays embellish their branches and make them sparkle
of a great luminescence that even astonishes the raging, fading moon
unwilling to miss the spectacle unfolding with intense images;
the Chirping sparrows have been warbling since the early dawn
and the Orchard orioles parched on spruces are somewhat sad 
not have been able to perform and be admired by birdwatchers,
ah, their whistling melodies must wait for silence as they become hostile!

By the Lake of the Half-Moon

Tulips and lilies never smelled
so fragrantly inebriating
by the lake of the half-moon,
I sense the ineffable mystery
of an alluring and serene evening;
remote breezes so unforeseen
and unquestionably redolent
slightly touch the motionless surface
of the silvery and bluish lake so comely
and limpid while drowsy oaks and spruces
sway their long and thick branches...
as if silence were an act of reverence!

In the deserted town strangely
someone sits on the bend of the lake
of the half-moon as he stares
at the luminescent Northern Star
striking the strings of his guitar
with his skilled, young fingers...
suddenly everything harmonizes
with his beautifully played melody,
but he's so amazed by the splendor of the lake
of the half-moon that he doesn't hesitate
to join the invisible nightingales to praise
the indubitable presence of the Creator!

The Mystical Night With Nebulous Stars

February's air is not really that frigid,
I stay warm in my fleece jacket
and insulated brown boots;
I'm also wearing a wool hat
I bought a month ago in Lake Placid,
its color is green and smells of spruces.

I have walked past pine groves
without the glowing eyes of owls,
a light breeze brushes them against
the mystical night with nebulous stars;
their branches are stiff and would be broken
if the wintry wind, taking a snooze, swept
them hard when nobody is woken. 

Nostalgic thoughts make the cold blood warm,
their images appear amid silver shadows
reflecting a moonlight unsteady and vague;
unafraid as always, I go past them
not fearing ghosts or howling wolves,
and even less the ravaging snowstorm 
about to approach soon. I'm thinking of Prague
where the temperature is much colder and
walking through the cobblestone streets,
one sees the magical Christmas unfold...
snow on red rooftops and Marionette Puppets.

Christmas Among the Spruces

I sit at the large window,
Gaze and see the prolific spruces.

They are my favorite twin trees,
Tall and shapely.

A beautiful spruce green,
They have been my favorite tree.

I think of  the tree in the living-room.
Of our exquisite house.

Decorated with lights and ornaments,
Some  homemade. 

This brings much happiness and friendship,
Days of Christmas where the relatives meet.

Santa Claus appears with his sled and reindeer,
He has a bag of presents in his sack.

Here to wish everyone a "Merry Christmas",
His elves stand nearby to facilitate the giving of the presents.

A traditional celebration each year.
Blessings of our God, appreciated by everyone.


Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz

Thankfulness

Thankful for days and nights,
God is our generous benefactor.

I am thankful for all our beautiful relatives,
They come and visit now and then.

The generous  miracles that surround us,
Fill us with cheer and happiness.

A retirement where we are well housed,
Cared for with excellence.

Thankful for the awesome environment,
Spruces and pines by the walkways.

A lake for swans and mallard ducks,
That glide on the water.

The giant goldfish that swim about the water,
The white water lilies that are on the edge of the lake.

Thankful for friends that we see while walking,
Conversations and shared stories.

The many activities at the retirement residence,
They keep us busy and active.

Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz

Santa Claus

Santa Claus our favorite folklore hero,
His suit of red and beard of white.

What a welcome sight and delight,
Our favorite person at Christmas.

Parents and children look forward to his visit,
His black boots and his sack full of toys.

He stands beside the beautifully decorated Christmas tree,
Filled with decorations and Christmas lights.

The presents under the tree,
Wrapped exquisitely for each person.

The Christmas creche under the tree,
Symbolizing the royal birth.

The time of year that we all look forward to,
The hustle and bustle of companions and friends.

The snow falls softly on the spruces and pines.
The universe is magically transformed into a winter paradise.

Santa's sled with the reindeer ,Dasher,Dancer, Prancer,Vixen, Comet Cupid,
Donner and Blitzen.

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer guides Santa's sled
That beautiful time of year, when we are all truly blessed.

Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz

Twilight In Forest

white keys of birch trees 
black keys of spruces and pines - 
music of twilight

8.20.2019
One Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
Syllables Per Line:	5 7 5

Trapper's Fears

Small train of pack horses walking slow,
five of them, to be precise,
on the shore of this rock-choked river,
opposite where I make my way.

Led by three men wearing buckskin,
one is Injun, must be their guide,
must’ve married into the tribe
or they wouldn’t be so friendly.

Their hoses full of plews, like mine,
a year’s work of trapping beaver
in icy pools by granite peaks,
all fringed by ramrod-straight spruces.

I ride one horse and lead two more,
fetlocks splash in the shallow water,
had to divert through the river
to avoid a stretch of rocky bluff.

Didn’t want too, I had no choice,
now three of them can see me plain,
see my year’s worth of beaver pelts,
out here where man makes his own law…

Maybe they’re the honorable sort,
but coin does strange things to a man.
grasp tight my big Hawken rifle
as one of them calls out to me…

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