Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
theArtfulWanderer
My favorite tree is the Mango tree. From its intricate roots to its slender, leafy ends its shade provides a source of relief on a sweltering afternoon. I don’t care much for its fruit. Its overpowering taste and insulting texture. But that’s not what this tree is all about This tree is about conversation. About relaxation, restoration, But most of all True connection. This is a tree that binds. Its branches tightly woven, giving shade to the expanse. always branching out yet consistently connected. Blessed be the tie that binds. Partings are seemingly unbearable With tears shed And embraces shared. Though we are constantly branching out, we are always connected. That’s why my favorite tree is the mango tree.
0
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 9:09 PM UTC
The Mango Tree
it smells like fresh coffee new paint the aroma of rose and freshly mown grass it feels like plush cushions warm fires the touch of a weathered hand and embrace of one dear it tastes like a fiesta chocolate pretzels the sweetness of exotic chocolate and bitterness of a decaf cup of coffee it sounds like old vinyl records Marvel movies the ring of laughter and old stories reborn it looks like a family gathered friends around a table the sight of school children all around and those loved growing near people grow life evolves circumstances change but hope? hope remains
0
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 8:46 PM UTC
hope
Oh the coworker the unadulterated unparalleled utterly useless, coworker I love the way your eyes light up while staring at your phone I adore the way you inspire action through your inaction I admire the way your attention to detail is seen through your snide remarks Oh coworker I aspire to attain your level of not giving ****
0
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
Ode to the Coworker
I am coming into my own not in a flood not in a storm but in a drizzle as a faint shower on the cusp of autumn nothing tempestuous nothing tumultuous just a mist I am coming out of my shell not in a burst not in a flash but in a whisper as a warm glow in the cool of evening nothing bright nothing blazing just a flicker I am learning how to be lost not in a panic not in a terror but in a wandering as a courageous vagabond in her youthful travels nothing known nothing certain just as she is
0
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
I am coming into my own