The Secret of the Ribbon Tree

I wrote this poem several years ago, but got to thinking about it this week — probably because we are coming up on Valentine’s Day. So I decided to give it some time online again.

THE SECRET OF THE RIBBON TREE

I’ve wondered round this earth for years,
And known my share of joys and tears.
I’ve laughed with love and cried for loss,
And broken dreams like rubbish tossed.

I’ve seen sights soaked in splendid sun
And bathed by moon when day was done.
But ’til today I’d not seen such
A sight that stirred my heart this much:

A giant, handsome, stately tree
Bedecked with ribbons midst the leaves.
Such gorgeous bows of silk, blood-red,
Tied as if on maiden’s head.

I stood and pondered what it meant:
This work of art to nature lent.
Who ties these bows, and why, I asked.
Who set himself this tedious task?

Some lover dreaming of soul-mate,
Who joyous love anticipates?
But there was none who, passing by,
Could tell me who, or how, or why.

And though I stood ’till set of sun
I found no answer; no, not one.
So on I trudged my weary way,
To reach my post by end of day.

But as I went, I sang a song:
Though much in this old world is wrong,
Still someone with a heart of love,
Took time and, with care, beauty wove –

Amidst the branches of old tree –
A gift of ribbons for all to see:
To lift the heart and light’n the load
Of each soul passing ‘long that road.


 

Playful Breeze

Persistent breeze,
Pressing on trees,
Playing with branches,
Tickling leaves.
Not a wind:
Not hard or mean,
Nothing threatening.
Quite crisp and clean.
Lying at pause,
Like a pup at rest,
Or a dormant wave
Before driven to crest,
This playful breeze
Turns off and on —
Dances with branches
And then is gone.
But soon returns;
At the trees takes aim,
And tosses and tussles
In its innocent game.



My Heart Belongs To Autumn (re-post)

Several years ago, as I sat on my front porch just enjoying the beauty of autumn, gazing fondly at a huge tree in my neighbors yard, this poem just started running through my soul. Today, as I thought about the fact that it’s the first day of autumn, 2019, I decided to re-post that poem so that all my new readers can enjoy it as well. After things get so far back in the archives, hardly anyone ever finds them. So I hope you enjoy this little reminiscence with me.


cropped-connies-tree-bright-color1.jpg

Leaf by tender leaf,
I watch this stately monarch
Dressing up for fall.

Gold, russet, yellow,
And brilliant red — her choices,
For she loves them all.

Hour by passing hour
The change begins subdued – but
Then bursts into flame.

I revel in the site.
My heart belongs to Autumn.
It’s joy calls my name.

The troubles that have pressed
Throughout the year now ending,
Though they’re present still,

Are restrained by the power
Of Autumn’s golden glory
To subdue all ill.

My heart belongs to Autumn.
Indeed, it always will.

~



Magnificent Monday Photos

BLUE SPRUCE GROVE - 1000

This perfect shot of a magnificent Blue Spruce forest is thanks to Terry Valley – one of my favorite photographers in the world.


Anyone else out there have a photo of something you consider “magnificent”? Post it on your site, then hop over here and leave the link in a “Comment” window below.

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Daily Post Prompt: Shine – via Terry Valley Photography

Today’s prompt made me think instantly of some great “shiny” photos by my friend, photographer Terry Valley.

terrys-sparkling-lake-larger

country-morning-shine

forest-b-w-hazy

icicles-at-falls-brt

wake-up-to-winter


To participate in today’s prompt visit the Daily Post.

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Prompt Nights # 30, Autumn

Instructions this week include choosing one of five pictures provided by the prompt hostess and writing a poem or prose piece based on that photo.  However, my poem was actually prompted by one particular tree near my home, so I’ve used a picture of it here instead of one from the original challenge post.
To take part in this challenge visit “A Dash of Sunny.”


Exif JPEG

MY HEART BELONGS TO AUTUMN

Leaf by tender leaf,
I watch this stately monarch
Dressing up for fall.

Gold, russet, yellow,
And brilliant red — her choices,
For she loves them all.

Hour by passing hour
The change begins subdued but
Then bursts into flame.

I revel in the site.
My heart belongs to Autumn.
It’s joy calls my name.

The troubles that have pressed
Throughout the year now ending,
Though they’re present still,

Are vanquished by the power
Of Autumn’s golden glory
To subdue all ill.

My heart belongs to Autumn.
Indeed, it always will.

~