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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 07:54:55 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 178176
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Wise Man Of The Woods
[time] => 2014-04-19 09:15:04
[hometext] => Feedback would be much appreciated. Thank you.
[bodytext] => Your gnarled face stares out into the opaque fog of a misted autumn morning. Your vermillion hair lies around you in a bed of sweet and damp The years have brought many hardships for your kind, And where you once stood proud amongst millions just like you, now you stoop in solitary. Where rough shrubs, tender saplings, and course berry bushes once flourished, a sea of ember grass now surrounds you, swiping at the sky with every gust of gentle wind. You have felt biting cold and searing heat, been stabbed, sprayed, inscribed and skinned to your ringed core, and yet you remain, as strong as ever, warped by hardship and solitude, but refusing to give in. Your legs bore deep into the earth, searching for the sustenance to support your lofty frame and twisted arms reach out into the sky and yearn for the tears of God to quench your unending thirst and soothe the rough skin that encases your trunk. A lush green cloak of spongy moss carpets your body, the only dignity you have left, the verdant beard of the wisest of men. You are home to hundreds; striped whirs of black and yellow buzz by you all day and then return to your embrace when they are laden with sweet pollen. Regimented soldiers scurry the length of your body in unchanging lines day in and out to labor food, to hasten back to their nest deep within your heart. Glassy eyed squirrels collect your fruits and then stash them in your warped flesh, preparing for the icy embrace of the ever-drawing winter You give and give, provide for all yet get nothing in return for you labours except scars and discomfort So as I sit on your creaking boughs in the eerie stillness of an early Sunday morning, I think of you, and the life of greatness you have lived and continue to live And I feel more at peace with you than any sunset beach, blooming meadow or winter wonderland. For you dear tree, selfless father of the forest, are the greatest teacher I have ever known. You teach fortitude, compassion, courage, altruism, but most of all, Most of all you teach love. No twelve disciples will tell stories of your life, nor will millions bow down to you in quiet prayer, but you have so much to say And I wish the world could listen. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 103 [topic] => 27 [informant] => Daydreamer101 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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