There is an old tree
That stands on the lawn.
Its branches are bare
And its bark is torn.
The blossoming violets
In a circle quite small.
They circle the tree,
The tree that's so tall.
A newcomer recruit
That attracts the keen eye.
An alabaster snowdrop
Gives a reason to pry.
Among the new violets
The snowdrop will weep.
Its dainty head falling
In despairing sleep.
Your feedback helps sian_ understand what's working
My posts are various inspiration for absolutely anything lying around. And I like seals.
Here comes the rain, Dripping through the trees, Here comes the rain, Soaking you and me.
It's delicate arms and soft colours. A picture from nature, it's beauty captured in a single petal. Striking colours, a feast for the eyes. Thoughts of warmer climates.
The same shade of green As the pines standing tall Composes its stem So thin and frail Yet strong enough To carry the weight Of its world, the blossom.
In a spiral of gold, ruby, and copper leaves tumble from the gnarled branches. A magnificent carpet of colours line the woodland paths. Cool winds carry the fiery foliage softly through the icy air.
Step out of the door, The cold chill sends ice through my spine. The warm colours tells me autumn has arrived. A season of paradoxes.
Golden hued leaves fall graciously to the ground. All the little squirrels stop and turn transfixed to the sound. Pollen lost from the legs of bees coat the glistening floor.
Trees are very curious things, Its hard to know where trunk ends and branch begins. Trees, trees, all green and brown, Stretching up from the ground.
How I love the Weeping Willow tree. Its branches gently fold over. As though it's trying to kiss the ground. There are so many branches. Like a giant green Octopus. Swaying softly in the breeze.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.