In my armchair, by the window
often I sit down to share
my thoughts with my favorite tree.
She stands across the street,
petite, weeping evergreen
when first we met.
Now tall and majestic,
her graceful sweeping limbs
have risen above rooftops
hiding distant mountain peaks.
My faithful friend,
through the seasons she waits for me.
With spring breezes she dances
adorned in her new dress
of delicate green growth.
In dog days of summer heat
her sweeping skirts provide
the cool dark shade where birds nest
and fat black squirrels come to hide.
When summer fades to autumns coolness
and her feathered guests depart
she abides, her splendor evergreen
until winter arrives.
Then misty days in shades of grey
replenish her and leave
diamonds on her fingertips.
So many moments spent together..
dawn, the hush still in the air,
noon or tea time, each a treasure.
Most precious when there's time to linger,
to watch the evening creep upon us
and in the dusky twilight to admire,
the beauty of her dark silhouette
against a fiery sky.
Still her beauty is the greatest
the day after a violent storm,
though battered and sometimes broken
she springs back with strength and grace.
My treasured friend, through long years
she whispers her quiet wisdom to me.
'Those who wish to grow and prosper
must learn to bend with the wind.'
Angela Michel's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (My Tree by Angela Michel )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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