Misstree Poem by Linda Burns

She stands there firmly rooted to the ground
While her bare arms reach, searching toward the winter sky.
Beyond her arms extend her naked, empty fingers.
Unwearied; she knows some one will come to dress her.

She is right.
Spring comes bringing her those budding under garments.
Like the camisoles of other graceful ladies.
Her dress is rustling leaves with burst of blossoms.
Oh how beautiful she is then! How desired.

Long her days, warm her nights through the seeming endless Summer.
Bright and fragrant baby blossoms mature into her full-grown children.
When they leave, she takes little notice; she's so blissful.
Her admirers find her daily with their praise.

Autumn comes giving her such delicious shivers.
Cooling winds strip her but she is unpretentious.
Her beauty and her promise will sustain her.
Until Spring shall come again to revamp her.

Winter is harsh but this is what she was expecting.
She is content to slumber with ice gleaming in her hair.
Moreover the beauty of a snowy mantle is no secret.
More than satisfied, she is pleased Spring will find her so well rested

She stands there firmly rooted to the ground
While her bare arms reach, searching toward the winter sky.
Beyond her arms extend her naked, empty fingers.
Unwearied; she knows some one will come to dress her.

She is right.