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Under the Sun
by
Frank P Whyte
Monday, March 23, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
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A tree is a tree
For all to see,
Beautiful green leaves
So lovellee,
Or soft pine needles
Spiral in the breeze,
As the uniform trunk
Sways with graceful ease.
Trees are home
To many it seems,
Raccoons and squirrels,
Many feathered species.
Towering together
In copse, stand, or grove
Or lining the edge of a seaside cove.
Trees discern the seasons
As do all living things
And endure the same challenges
Which inclemency brings,
They’ll dress in splendor for the
Harvest Ball
Which is perennially planned
For the middle of fall,
And they are mighty specters
When the winter winds blow,
But long for the moist warmth of spring
When the life force flows,
For all,
Under the sun.
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| Reviewed by Carol Surber |
4/10/2009 |
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| If the trees could speak...but you have spoken a few words for them! |
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| Reviewed by Cryssa C |
3/23/2009 |
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LOVE the picture! I must admit that I, too, am longing for spring. The fickle weather in Montana is driving me nuts...spring for a day or two and then winter for a week...sigh...it snowed again this morning. :~)
As for your poem...I love the perfect rhythm of it, as well as the format. The format gave the impression of being tall and stately...just as your words did.
Cryssa |
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