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Mark Parker Sep 2020
Rocks ripple my river reflection
as amber and caramel leaves spiral
from sleeping oaks
landing atop water as lily pads
and clothing my mirror image.
I envy the resting trees,
tucked in for the winter.
The place exists somewhere, I just have to find it.
Guntang Jun 2020
breezing past
butterflies jest
in florescent court
weathered oaks
chiefly gaze
the leafy shadows
remember crowds
Tanner May 2020
Trees in the yard grow alongside me.
I’ve scaled their trunks
And swung from their branches.
Fallen through their leaves,
Scraping my arms and knees on the way down.

I grow a little older,
The trees a little taller.
One oak is getting too big,
It grows in the driveway
And needs to be cut down.
One less tree.

Another gets removed to make way for a pool.
The tree lasted for decades before my parents moved there,
The pool lasted a summer.
A summer of splashing in constantly cold water.
A circular pool acting as police tape for this ****** scene.
One less tree.

One in the front yard
Poses a threat to the house’s foundation.
Its trunk is cut down,
And it’s stump ripped out of the ground.
I grew up when I ran out of branches to climb.
One less tree.

The last tree gets struck by lightning.
It falls over and hits the garage.
It’s body seared, and it’s sap oozes like blood
A wood chipper comes and disposes of it’s remains.
A dead patch of grass, like a chalk outline of its corpse.
One less tree.

Two trees remain.
One is used to hold the dog’s leash while she roams outside.
The other provides shelter
For the squirrels and birds who were evicted.
I wonder,
Which one will go next?
Corey Boiko Sep 2019
I've been wondering
How to want what i need,
Pondering how to
Say what I mean,
How to not plant trees,
Instead, to sow a seed.

How I could listen
Instead of talk.
How i could show
A bean, a beanstock.
How we might one day grow
From raindrops to mighty oaks.

So why is it
That I've taken us here?

And how is it
that 'us' has little to do
with you and me?
And What marks the cycles
Of an Acorn to a tree?

So why is it
That I've taken us here?

And how is it
That 'where i've taken us'
Has little to do with 
You and i
Going somewhere,
Side by side. 

No strings attach
My moon to your tide,
And the ground is softer
On the other side,
So let the wind,
A breath, a sigh
Sweep you up,
Be brave more than shy.
The world is much brighter
If you fall far from my side.
Lady Ravenhill Feb 2019
Vines can reacheth up to the sky
Supp'rt'd by the sturdy pine
Given the chance to groweth and thrive
Curl and twist'd up rough skinn'd oaks
To seeth the w'rld through eyes up high
Unreachable but f'r those deep, stout roots
Anon finally able to floweth'r and fruit
Climbing up by the crackling bark
On the backs of the pines and belly of the oaks
2018 rewrite of 2016 poem
Starting a collection of just my Shakespearean poetry called
W'rds of a Nimble-Footed Mistress. check it out on my profile as I add more, I have so many still to post. Who knows, maybe I will finally publish something?
mikumiku Mar 2018
“Let’s burn oaks!” my mother said
Then she lit a tiny match
Still can’t fit it in my head
So much fire made from scratch
She said: “Oaks! Let’s burn them all!”
Then she drank a glass of wine
‘Twas a sunny day in fall
Fire started, I was nine
Red Panda Poetry Apr 2017
You were once vast, large and never lied
Stretching far and reaching high
Now you are a wooden twig
Pulled away and Broken by a pig
The pig who didn't care for what used to be
the magnificent tree
who sat in my yard by the garage and the pool
In which, you had rule,
over all those tiny sapling oaks
who now look up and mope
Because trees are limited and rigged with beehives,
but many see that as the loss of their wives.
This was brought up many times during Earth Day, Pencils. So we owe them and Conrad Gessner, for inventing the pencil. Some people bury their family members in their yards, under a favorite tree, so that is where the last line came from.
Lady Ravenhill Nov 2016
Vines can reach up to the sky
Supported by the sturdy pine
Given the chance to grow and thrive
Curl and twist up rough skinned oaks
To see the world through eyes up high
Unreachable but for those deep, strong roots
Now finally able to flower and fruit
Climbing up by the bark
Of the pines and the oaks
@LadyofRavenhill 11/13/16
Costructive feeback on my poems is always welcome.
rachel burch Nov 2015
We have stood ship backed
Against the wind, and the rain
Our roots delve deep in the Devon soil.
Moss, and bird song protect us
We watch, we breath as the sun turns.
Our branches hold a thousand lives
Earthbound we know our songs.
Spinning endlessly under the ancient stars
About the trees that grow around Dartmoor, Devon U.K.

— The End —