Bri Edwards Tree Poems

My father had an ancestor in France....
who did clean-up after each beheading.
One gal's neck was too tough, and she lived.
Not long after was his and her wedding.
...

Oh!

Of all the seasons to lose one's coat!
At least she's NOT on a channel ferry boat,
...

I had no great great grandad;
it sometimes makes me so mad.
But if I'd had such a gr-gr-gr-dad,
I'm sure he'd have been v'y, v'y bad,
...

Your poem's 2nd line stumps** me good;
I'd rewrite it for YOU, Akhtar, if I could.
But mostly I find your poem to be fine.
I sip it from your pen like a sweet wine.
...

A stately hemlock.... my western window does guard.
Its afternoon shadow marks the edge of the yard.
Its flat needles are green.
Its cones have a brown sheen.
...