Trees
Charcoal army on chilled horizon
Guarding a lonely sunset
You watch us come and go
In our ever changing regalia
Always there to soothe our failure
Whe fickle wind does blow.
Childhood summers that rest in our memory
You were always there
Those days when we ran free
-Gave our picnics welcome shade
And filtered sun in quiet glade.
Snow carpeted meadow
Is where i feel no pain
Your wooden arms rigor mortis feign
Where once Mother Nature sat, at will
Creating beauty that you embrace still.
As dew hangs on to summer leaf
Autumn waits in shadow
Like a silent thief.
Yet heaven's colours still lie bebeath.
I rest my eyes in spinney, alone
Far from madding telephone
And raucous greed that grabs and pulls
A flower amid the raging bulls.
It is peace to a child and adult you bring
With neither seldom realising
Your artist's touch that grasps the sky
Will feel the century flashing by
Yet stand to wait for infant eye.
A wonder i cannot compare
Mute trees that whisper- always there.
poem by Kevin East
Added by Poetry Lover
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