Vast grey skies of weeping clouds
Blanketed the earth
Voluptuous
And ponderous
As weighty as my heart
Misting lightly, icy drops
Danced upon my cheek
Shivering slightly
Walking softly
The forest I embraced
Sudden gusts woke sleeping pines
Who whispered out my name
Oh lonely one,
With eyes of green
Come stay a while with us
And tossed their fragrant furls of cones
That scattered round my feet
Their gifts bestowed
With kind intent
Upon the sweet damp earth
Then rustling, whirling, chattering leaves
Spoke of tales and legends
Of mysteries
And memories
Of dark and silent secrets
How broken limbs and hollowed logs
Had died with no regrets
And now adorned
The forest floor
Like sculptured works of art
An old oak tree now beckoned
To sit beneath her bows
I huddled down
Crouched at her feet
As winds began to howl
My heart did break from loneliness
As snow fell from above
Then biting cold
Swept o'er my soul
Like ice-tipped wings of doves
Awesome! ! You wrote another poem that is as golden as your personality. I loved the descriptiveness and everything. It reminds me slightly of one of Goldheart's poems. She, however, left Poem Hunter.
So beautiful! Loved it Beach Girl. Forest with all its mysteries and beauties has all the pul that you feel and wrote about so eloquently. Thanks for sharing
i've reread the BEAUTIFUL poem, which i first read 3 years ago. at least i have a good enough reason this time for not remembering it. i mean i now sometimes can read a nice poem 'a few months ago' and still not recall lit. oh well, as long as i remember what i should about kitchens and bathrooms, AND don't get them mixed up, i guess i'm good! i also am reading my 3 year-old comment. i CAN'T figure out why i said there was a typo in the last line of stanza three. hmmm? ? and re furled. i think, if anything, i would have used unfurled in speaking of falling cones, because i would think of them as opened, not closed tight. hmm? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (thanks, Google!) : furl fərl/ verb past tense: furled; past participle: furled roll or fold up and secure neatly (a flag, sail, umbrella, or other piece of fabric) . he shouted to the crew to furl sails literary become rolled up; curl. the plant sends up cones of furled leaves - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - re my comment about biting fingers, you seem to have exchanged biting cold for 'biting fingers'. i like that much better! ;) and i am very enthused that you have offered it to me to used in January 2017's showcase for PH poets. AND I'll keep you in the loop! THANKS! ! any startling changes in the perfume world, OR spider world? ? bye for now, D. bri :) i'm assuming i sent this 'then' to MyPoemList. i'll send it now just in case i did not already. this is one of my all-time-FAVORITE non-humorous poems, even if i don't remember it in a few months! ! ! !
Thank you Bri! I appreciate your comments. I struggle with the word furl too, but it seems like the only one that would fit. Oh, and pine cones close up when they get wet or lay on damp soil and open when dry.
Very nice poem. I especially liked the subtle rhyming of the last two stanzas.
I 'love' trees. Very imaginative and captivating, this poem. How many beers did you have? bri : )
I guess it won't 'hurt' to read this again. Debbie, you were lonely? ? I wish I'd been with you. Were you drunk?
when you said: Voluptuous And ponderous As weighty as my heart...i thought this would be a '' poem. i'm glad i read it again. a wonderful poem, Debbie. if it isn't in MyPoemList yet, it will be SOON! ! ! BRI (:
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An old oak tree now beckoned To sit beneath her bows I huddled down Crouched at her feet As winds began to how.. lot of lovely images in this poem. it is very very poetic and very clear ideas. thank you very much. tony