Supper In The Forest

Supper In The Forest

Sweet smell of autumn, intoxicating
Under canopies of half naked branches
Pinecones litter the ground, soaking
Pineing for the honour of company
Embracing the love of nature
Reading poetry, gives homage to a tree

Incense fuming, around a fire burning
Nestled and wrapped in wooly blankets

Tiny bits and bites to feast
Happy and sad, drowning in wine
Entwined, in a silent moment leading

First a kiss that trails to many
Orally expressing desires and fantasies
Releasing inhibitions that knot
Eating the fruit of passion with want
Supper in the forest
Together, dreams flourish


Below A Maple Tree

poems written

poems read

below a maple tree

in autumn red

drops in time

seasons leave

below a maple tree

of falling leaves

stories told

on land and sea

below a maple tree

words do see

battles lost

battles won

below a maple tree

a tale of one

pure of heart

a shinning knight

below a maple tree

day and night

a quest for love

to fill a hole

below a maple tree

becomes whole

flowing locks

shimmers with sun

below a maple tree

lights up a hum-hmmm

weak are words

penned in gibberish

below a maple tree

a poet illiterate

a knockout punch

true love found

below a maple tree

soulmates bound


If I Were A Tree

If I were a tree, which would I be

The smallest or tallest in the forest

An evergreen swaying in the breeze

Reaching higher than any other

The solid oak, broad and full of hope

Its grainy core drives an artist to soar

A home that builds a home

Where love is nested, through time tested

That thick pine, that points to star a line

When a moment of birth, shook the earth

To a drummers hum, “rumpa-pum-pum”

“oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree”

Cherry blossoms flourish then vanish

Birch intoxicates a summer burn

Fast as a blink, the crave returns quick

For here comes autumn, leaves have fallen

If I were a tree, which would I be

The maple that stands proud and humble

Rooted deep enough, takes the rough stuff

A symbol of a place that roots my space

Limbs gently wave over lovers names engraved

I had a dream that I became a tree

It took years to grow until the truth comes to know

Plump and full knowledge, time comes to pay homage

β€œI think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree” – Joyce Kilmer