Treasure Island

Angela Michel

(1960 / Revelstoke BC Canada)

My Tree

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.'

Submitted: Saturday, August 29, 2009
Edited: Thursday, June 09, 2011

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Comments about this poem (My Tree by Angela Michel )

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  • Anna DeVine (9/6/2009 7:49:00 PM)

    Now that was most amicable a verse.
    Yes, beautifully written.
    I love the reflective quiescence ye've instilled here, it's wonderful.

    Keep well,

    'Anna (Report) Reply

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