The TREE (perseverance and determination)

Rhyming Couplets formed into Quatrains to save on vertical length, in an aabb, ccdd, etc; rhyme scheme, lines of iambic tetrameter (8-counts/4 poetic feet) … in homage to the Highest Spirit in us all.

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.-~=•˜The TREE˜•=~-.

:

It stands there on that barren hill

with limbs stretched wide, sunlight to fill.

The tree grew proud, so strong and high,

its branches reaching t'ward the sky.

.-~*~-.

The tree looked down and saw bare stone,

in silence cried, “I’m all alone;

but, I’ll face fate without a fear,

one day to find fulfillment here!”

.-~*~-.

In Springtime, skies brought gushing rain,

as storms built strong in harsh disdain.

Gales slashed the tree that had no choice,

with their wild force of vernal voice;

.-~*~-.

Then, falling ... fell down hard to earth,

on shard-strewn soil that gave it birth.

The tree was broken, filled with pain,

but struggled; then, stood up again.

.-~*~-.

The Summer’s day produced a storm,

from tropic air, both thick and warm.

Gilt lightning flashed a jagged fire,

to strike the tree with violent ire.

.-~*~-.

Consuming flames flared hot with glee,

seared tender branches off the tree.

If not for quenching rain's downfall;

perhaps, it might have taken all.

.-~*~-.

Through Autumn's craze of frigid flak,

its limbs grew stiff to freeze and crack.

Heard Winter portent's warning spell;

deprived of leaves … again, it fell.

.-~*~-.

The tree, once sure, now filled with doubt;

for, it, this season might die out.

Though, stripped and raw upon that hill,

it swore to life ... come on what will.

.-~*~-.

Then, Winter came with frigid snows,

the direst, yet, of savage blows.

Through splintered dread of icy hell,

felt numbing pangs in thawing's quell.

.-~*~-.

Despair engulfed, a drowning sea

that soaked so deep into the tree.

Each Winter does one Spring day end;

it's then, all wounds begin to mend.

.-~*~-.

Yet, scarred from life, it lives on still;

there's newfound hope atop that hill.

The tree's known pain of loss and grief;

now's, learned the value of each leaf.

.-~*~-.

One sunlit day in early Spring,

the tree looked down and saw this thing;

'neath gnarled, protective arms of wood …

a tender little sapling stood.

:

.-~=<†>=~-.

:

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Richard W. Jenkins

~ ©1976 ~

Photo by G.Dan Mitchell

PhD WINNER

Nature Poetry Contest

Author's Note

Another long one … this, from the early archives.

Constructive critique and helpful comments are always welcomed (by anyone)! : )

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

wow Richard love this, trees are wise old creatures i believe they feel and can see us.
I know that sounds like a lot of gobblegosh but I have proof, (dont put me in the mad house yet) lol.
I ground every day in my yard barefoot. so occasionally at dusk I go out well I go out a lot at dusk and stand barefoot and touch the trees, there is no breeze whatsoever, then as they feel me touch their leaves or branch, the top or bottom part of the tree and the branches nearby move in sway. Its quite beautiful then i noticed the ones next get my attention and do the same.
Maybe im psycho or psychic lol

Loved your write good rhyming !

[Richard&#128396;]

Hi, Dear Julie 🌿

It is rare anyone takes time to venture back into my portfolio for something to read and review, but I'm so very pleased you have taken the opportunity to do so … and, a more graciously generous, beautifully rendered review I cannot recall receiving.

Then, the cherry on top is that you've shared something personally wonderful and highly interesting to wrap my fertile imagination around … something I fully comprehend. I say this because, combined with your personal discernments on the conscious life of trees, I once read a book titled, "The Secret Life of Plants" that awoke in me a deep understanding of how floral and arboreal living beings feel and react when receiving the energy of outer stimulus. No, Julie, I don't think you're speaking gibberish or that you're a psycho, but I do recognize in you my harmonious soul.

That you love anything about my writing is a true blessing beyond words … yet, I'm ever-so warmly pleased you do.

Thank you, Dear Julie, for sharing my amazing live oak tree with me! ⁓ Richard🖌

[...]

This is stunning! The hardships and cycles of being, living, and rebirth, all told from the wisdom of a tree! I love trees and I LOVE this beautiful poem.

[Richard&#128396;]

Gosh, Dear Lynn,
I cannot thank you enough for letting me know how well you grasp the essence and spirit of this piece, and for your sweet gift of praise and love for it … this means so very much to me.
I think "stunning" describes You perfectly … warmest, most thankful hug to you, Lynn ⁓ Richard

[Samuel Dickens]

Some very good things can come from an archive, and boy, this is one of them. So well done, this story of the intrepid tree and it's will to survive is amazing. Most excellent work, Rascal.

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you sincerely and gratefully, Samuel.
Your praise and enjoyment of this deeply meaningful piece is gratification in the highest, indeed … thank you again, Dear Poet! ⁓ Richard

[Roland Petrov]

Spill those early archives, Richard! These longer ones double our pleasure. "Craze of frigid flak" is a line I'd steal were I a thief. Just a lovely poem.

[Richard&#128396;]

Ah, Roland,
You are welcome to honor me by stealing anything you want … I write to share and furnish my fellow poets with enjoyment in whatever way they wish it, so borrow at will.
Big smile of thanks to you, My Friend! ⁓ Richard

[SyberRose]

I enjoyed this Richard...beautifully written...I love the spring and the autumn...especially the colors of the changing leaves...I like the way you ended the poem...and thank you for posting a golden oldie...Rose..have a great weekend.

[Richard&#128396;]

Ah, Dear Rose!

From an artist of your caliber, your enjoyment and praise of this long-ago piece is touching and inspiring, indeed, and the sharing in your thoughts of love for Nature and her splendor warm me all through with such wondrous beauty … your lovely review, a poem within itself.

Thank you with warmest hugs, and best wishes for your weekend, too, Sweet Rose ~ Richard

[Kelly Scheppers]

What a lovely, poignant story, Richard! I was so happy with your closing line. You gave your reader hope!

[Richard&#128396;]

Kelly,
I am thrilled you chose this one to read and review; it's an old one, but I think it still has some luster left.

Yes, it is sad to know that anything suffers as the oak did, but it made it stronger, too, and able to protect that little one. : )
It is (sorta) my own story, too.

Thank you warmly and sincerely, Kelly, it means a lot to me that you in particular read and enjoy my poems! ~ Richard

[Kelly Scheppers]

When I was a little girl, our street was lined with oak trees. What a pageantry of color they were, and a safe harbor for birds. Very few of them are there today, but the memory of them still lives within me. I love how the wind rustles the mighty oak!

[Richard&#128396;]

How close and dear you make me feel with your sharing of youthful days, Kelly … I can almost see those oaks and hear their leaves chatting with the wind. : )

[Saurabh7677]

Really beautiful poem.I really enjoyed reading it.

[Richard&#128396;]

Gee, thanks so much … I appreciate your time and am so very glad you found it favorable, my friend.

Blessings to you! ~ Richard