Tag: Trees

Rendezvous

Rendezvous

Lightly falling rain
soaking her hair
Excited she moved quickly
Anticipating
Feeling the chill
of the night air

Branches hanging low
snagging her dress
Oblivious to the elements
Extremities turning numb
Her zealous thoughts
she could not repress

Sheltering under the trees
he saw her running
toward him
In all her beauty
even disheveled
she was stunning

Facing each other
he was reticent to speak
Holding back his words
reining in his actions
fearing the havoc
he might wreak

Looking into his eyes
she knew it was wrong
Her head lowered
in a shameful repose
She opened her eyes
but he had already gone

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Reticent

Zealous

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Eyes Wide Open – Week 5

Good Morning!

This is what I came across this week while out and about in nature. As always all photos are taken with an iPhone.

Enjoy your Saturday!

Palm Trees with Earrings

Palm Trees with Earrings

Purple Blue Clematis

Pretty Lilcac-Blue Clematis

Face in the tree

I see a face in this dead Palm tree

Ibis flight

A group of Ibis on the trail

 

Mango Tree

 

An insurance company would call this an “attractive nuisance”.  I could easily have stolen these delicious looking mangoes

 

Keep your eyes open, you never know what you will see!

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Thirst

Musical sound of rain
Against a corrugated roof
A wordless opera
Of drama and fraught
With worry of how to cope
What nature had brought

The planet’s frown
Sucking rain into its cracks
Giving breath to the roots
Of trees shriveling
Into dust on blistered ground
Parched and crippling

The deluge continues
Day after endless day
The energetic monsoon
Providing the needed fuel
Protecting earth’s mortality
In its season of renewal

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Words Prompts:  They were definitely not easy today but I think I managed it!

Cope

Blister, Frown, Opera

Monsoon

Energetic

Renewal

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Balance

Faces forming in the clouds
Evanescent in the billowing shroud
Colors brilliant at the end of the day
Pinks and blues give way to oranges and grey

Salty spray upon the face
Murmuring waves rolling without a trace
Windblown feathers of the hawk
Spirits of the ocean talk

Energy of the water runs deep
Crying souls succumbed to final sleep
Undulating strength of a million years
Cumulating in a sea of tears

Ancient trees stand witness to it all
Ringed with age, strong and tall
Mountains jagged and insurmountable
Standing close and almost touchable

Beauty abounds but at what cost
Take it now it will soon be lost
Reenergize the human being
This life of yours is worth living

Chakras tell the story
Where you might lose your glory
Balance life as nature does perfect
Or suffer the consequential effect

Christine Bolton

Word of the Day Challenge: Evanescent

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The Reader

Sweet sounds of the mourning dove
The sun filtering through the trees
A clearing full of buttercups and
Daisies fluttering in the summer breeze

You are sitting under the oak
Reading your book so intently
Not noticing my arrival
I observe you patiently

Your hair thick and dark
Glasses on the tip of your nose
Long legs stretched out
Sitting in a comfortable pose

Your book is of course a classic
Catcher in the Rye
You have read it a dozen times
Only you know why

You are in your special place
I do not want to disturb
Happy to be observing you
I will not perturb

Engrossed in your reading
I will watch you for a while
You do not see me
But I am giving you a smile

In nature’s mystical playground
Infused with its energy
I yearn for you from afar
But we can no longer be

I am your past
Gone now from this life
We were once together
When I was your wife

Christine Bolton

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Trees

I was watching a drama on Amazon yesterday and there was a dialogue between a man and woman who were walking in the city of Dublin getting to know each other.  She was from Cuba and he was Irish.  She asked him what kind of tree she was looking at and he answered, it was a Sycamore.  Admiring it she loved the different shape of the leaves. They talked a little more and he was intrigued and attracted by their cultural differences.  Although a nurse in Cuba, her qualifications were not recognized in her adopted country so she resorted to do cleaning work.  He asked her if she was homesick and she answered that sadly she was.  She said from faraway everyone looks the same, just like the trees.  It’s not until you get closer that you can see the differences.  In her job she would say hello to people and some would respond, but as a cleaner she was invisible to most and they wouldn’t even bother to acknowledge her.  Her words saddened them both while they thought about it.  Then she said, “We are all just like the trees, beautiful, and not all the same.”

I love moments that make me think about what was said. It was a comparison I had not considered and found it very relevant.  Like the trees, we are all different, indigenous to where we came from, and not always familiar with others and their habitats.  We migrate to different corners of the world in search of a better life, adapting to various cultures, lifestyles and living conditions.I celebrate our ethnicities and varying backgrounds.  I started to play around with these comparisons and came up with this poem. Hope you like it!

Trees

We are all like trees
Coming in different shapes and sizes
Some come tall, others bushy
Thick with foliage and in other guises

Trees manage to survive
Planted in many places
Like us not all are native
We come with differing faces

Their leaves are varying in size and shape
Some are shed every year
Others remain and are evergreen
As a Christmas tree, bringing good cheer

The leafless trees of Winter
Offer no refuge from the coldness
Sending inhabitants south
To avoid becoming homeless

The swaying southern palms
Majestic and evergreen they remain
Welcoming all who arrive
Giving shelter to sustain

The lofty Bamboo
Strong and slender
Producing melodic sounds
A calming effect rendered

Tropical flowers in December
Bringing joy to your heart
As a good friend would do
When you have been apart

The beauty of a blossom tree
Bringing smiles in the Spring
Reminiscent of a newborn child
Another beginning for everything

The characteristics of trees
And those of the human race
Caution us to study the subject
Before we question the birthplace

Christine Bolton

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