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Zywa Apr 25
The birches are called

silvery white, yeah, language --

can be very poor.
Story "Dichtertje" ("Little poet", 1918, Nescio), written in 1917, chapter 10

Collection "Rasping ants"
Zywa May 2022
The birch watches me

with a purely divine look --

of generous eyes.
The birch is the "watchful tree", with aspen eyes after dropping the branches that don't receive enough sunlight

Collection "Secrets & Believers"
John McCafferty Feb 2020
Ivy climbs gnarled knotted trunks
Darker lines and streams divide where white wool digs below tufts of heather and tall tipped reeds
Calm flat lakes vacate
Pale hues of birch become rocky barren lands of moss and brown broken bracken
Thick conifers multiplied for miles
The mountain side tipped with ice
Houses change like the hedgerow from new to old
Some unfurnished whilst others glow
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
You woo me deep
into the ecstasy of your pristine chasteness...

where dry leaves of Aspen and Beech and Birch
sussurate to the music of a lazy breeze,

where Hummingbirds
**** in frenzy
nectar from the orange glees
of the flame-of-the-forest trees,

where Hawthorns
lure the breeze
to weave its vibrance
in their domes of green glory,

where shrunken streams
bask in their white pebbly flourish.

Like an enchantress,
you lure me to the depth of your
rapturous bliss!

To say farewell, my heart pains.
I leave a beat of my heart
to ramble with the roving breeze
perennially in your alluring meadows!
Richard Grahn Oct 2017
pale birch trees stand tall
long shadows seep into night
lumberjacks slumber
Trying to get closer to a real haiku/senryu here. I've still got a long way to go before I get a handle on some of the intricacies.
Andrew Name Apr 2016
Moe took a gulp from the jar
while Andy tried to spit out the tar
Pincho looked at them and says
if prez knows your bitter ways

Moe filled himself and fell asleep
Andy crept out to the deep
Pincho didn't think of such loss
scratching on wood to sharpen claws

Moe keeps mumbling a sleepy chant
then Andy dug himself in the sand
so Pincho left out to the walk
tracing his path with tail's stroke

he released the chain, widely opened the door
and started up dancing to the birch and more
Pincho is a wise old Cat. Nonfictional character)

— The End —