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Trees (haiku #1)

Tree wood with fire
Nature equips survival   
Light, heat, and cooking

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Trees (haiku #2)

Leafy beings, green
Wood umbrellas, ancient roots
Growing, reaching sky

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Trees (haiku #3)

Pluck the tender fruit
Motherly branches feed all
Body and soul, blessed

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Trees (haiku #4)

Shelter for our homes
Furniture within our walls
Uses-myriads

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Trees (haiku #5)

Pencils, books, paper
Education thanks to trees
Writing, poetry

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Trees (haiku #6)

Trees crafted, songs sung
Guitars, violins, harps-more
Wood, melodious

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Trees ( haiku #7)

Birds, critters depend
Harmonious relations
Trees magical grace

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Trees (haiku #8)

Bountiful beauty
Standing upright or chopped down
More precious than gold
The current of life always flowing
The river remains, the water keeps going
Escapes from your hand
Turning rocks into sand
Its secret is something worth knowing
In stillness the senses grow pleasant
With inner abundance no peasant
The coin of the realm
He receives from the elm
And spends every ounce in the present
I could believe in you

I could.

believe you, real, open hearted, viable. unafraid.
easy smiling, genuine, easy listening, maybe mine.
even real.

a slow Saturday being, doing nothing,
loving it, languid. high time for downtime musing.
I could.

I could.
you could too.
believe in me.
pinch me awake.

I could believe in me
when, you grant permission,
give me permission to could,

to believe.




2/8/2020
7:24am
“But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.”

“To a Child Dancing in the Wind” by William Butler Yeats

<|>
saw this poem on the site,
and it ripped a tear in my warp,
shredded edges rubbing each other,
violently, volubly, saying be wary child,

for what we don’t tell the children well
in advance of their sad discovery
that the world is not the perfection  and
that good night moon story world
is not as it purport does if
it really exists,

and I am bitter that all warning asunder,
inutile, wasted, going unbelieved till time
is they must discover in their own pain,
their own sorrow that our world and words,
are imperfect, and that I am sordid saddened
that there is little one can do to protect them,
other than,
speak in a barbarous tongue


”But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.”

Yeats

~~~

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4756146/to-a-child-dancing-in-the-wind-by-william-butler-yeats/
weeping
Golden Memories

Golden memories are like gifts
They stay with us for a lifetime
When remembered they
Make us smile
Laugh
Love
Feel joy
Touch us again as if new
They are treasures
Like jewels
Some are rubies
Some are emeralds
Some are sapphires
Some like diamonds
Each one is special in it’s own right
Each one touches our soul
Golden memories are like gifts
They last forever
In the velvet dark of nightfall’s embrace,
Stars awaken, each in their place.
Whispers of twilight, soft and serene,
Paint the sky in a midnight sheen.

Moonlight dances on silken waves,
Casting shadows in hidden caves.
Crickets sing their lullaby tune,
Under the watchful eye of the moon.

The world slows down, in gentle repose,
Dreams unfurl as the night wind blows.
In the velvet dark, hearts find peace,
A moment of stillness, a sweet release.
 Sep 26 sweetycandy
Pj
I put my words on paper
To explain my tears.
I pour my heart on paper
To explain the sadness.

But the day you asked me,
"write me a poem".
I had nothing.
For when I look at you,
My words are gone.
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