Sunday, 19 January 2014

Tree baby

I saved you
From that culling blade
In my friend's hand.
I smuggled you
From that dappled glade 
In that hostile land.
I moved you
To your sundrenched home,
Your new resting place.
I nourished you
In rich, dark loam,
Sun on your face.
I watched you.
Your shoots grow tall
With statuesque power.
I loved you
Winter, spring, summer, fall,
Seven years, no rewarding flower.
I spurned you.
Let the rain rain,
Let the sun shine.
You surprised me.
Spring came round again
A bloom, a sign.
You mocked me,
Mocked my age
My fertility, ironic.
You saved me
From a dark cage
From myself, a tonic.


Sharing with Björn on dverse and his tree prompt http://dversepoets.com
And
The lovely people at Poets United, for Poetry Pantry http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.co.uk

70 comments:

  1. sure was nice taking us through this germinating process; have a nice Sunday

    much love...

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    1. Hope yours was a good one.
      Take care Gillena

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  2. interesting the mixed feelings you felt at the bloom...i wonder too if that is not the same with us and kids as well...investing in them until they bloom and leave us....

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    1. I've never felt like that when mine have left home, excitement and nerves, but sometimes when they have shown magnificent disregard for your feelings, well. ...

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  3. The journey of the tree..hope it blooms in the spring..

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    1. It has one last journey to make, we'll see.

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  4. love this process of creation of beauty.....and the cute title :)

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    1. I'm always saving stuff from re landscaping projects or building sites. My husband has put a ban on more trees though.

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  5. a vice versa saving....that sounds good... i once saved a little walnut tree and for me it still is the most beautiful tree in the world...

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  6. Glad the tree finally bloomed. I don't understand how it mocked you. Maybe it was just trying to teach you patience, which you demonstrated well. Nice write.

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    1. Myrna, let's just say that it chose to bloom and flash its fertility when I was ill and facing the surgical loss of mine

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  7. Replies
    1. Ultimately it was very rewarding.

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  8. Oh this is really nice.

    I like the sort of giving, unconditional love contained in this section:

    I loved you
    Winter, spring, summer, fall,
    Seven years, no rewarding flower.


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    Replies
    1. I spend a lot of time in my plant hospital. It's very rewarding.

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  9. Did you grow it from a seed?
    Lovely to think of it as a baby that needs nurturing.
    I wonder which actual kind of tree you have in mind.
    And the dappled glade makes for a nice image too.

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    1. It was a tiny lilac. I tried to save quite a few from my friend's landscaping project, most didn't make it.

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  10. you penned Natures process and took us through it step by step...great write Pea...

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  11. This is the way of some trees - it takes them a while to bloom, just like some humans:) I really love this tree poem!

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  12. Oh! That is really nicely done. The rearing of a tree child... how wonderful and the entire wait and process is very well pictured in your words.
    -HA

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  13. Nothing is more fascinating than to observe nature...you have captured the germination beautifully in your write. I loved the lines:
    "I loved you
    Winter, spring, summer, fall,
    Seven years, no rewarding flower."

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    Replies
    1. Ankita, I love gardening and rearing my plants from seeds and cuttings.

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  14. What is the reward that we get from nature? Not a flower, but perhaps reaching deep inside us, springing us to life ~ I really enjoyed this ~

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    1. Grace, it does connect with me, spiritually.

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  15. I hope now that the tree has bloomed one time it will bloom again. I know some trees / flowers bloom infrequently. I would like to know what kind of tree this is.

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    1. It's a white lilac, Mary. We shall see what happens this year.

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  16. very cool....adopt the pace of nature, her secret is patience -Emerson

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    1. Sadly patience is not one of my strengths

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  17. I love that title too. Yes, nature surprises us sometimes...even in our impatience to hurry things along. Blooms and fruit take time...like our own growth. Loved this sweet poem.

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    1. Indeed nature often works very slowly. My latest project is growing orchids, two years and I'm just seeing success.

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  18. How wonderful to nourish a tree like that.. wonderful.. and the end, almost like an anticlimax... you managed to keep a suspense through your lines that I really liked

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    1. Ah Björn, the end product was so much better in reality.

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  19. interesting thoughts... loved it!

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  20. A lovely metaphor, Pea ... sometimes we are nurturing to others, but there is no reward or sign of growth ... I can understand the mixed feelings here.

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    1. Ah, so many things we do are without reward.

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  21. Beautiful poem about nurturing and then allowing something (a tree, a child?) to grow strong and bloom on its own.

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    1. Thank you very much, it really is about a tree.

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  22. I like the use of mixed feelings, confusion...maybe in the end nature is its own reward?

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  23. this reminded me that once my youngest and I were in a store and a lady came up to us and handed us a small pine tree. We brought it home and then stashed it with Grandma who always had a green thumb. When Grandma died, we took the tree about three feet high and planted it in the yard. We sold the house, and once driving by I noticed the tree was about 12 feet tall.

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    1. Oh that's brilliant, what a great thing she did. Glad it's still going.

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  24. A bloom, a sign.
    You mocked me,
    Mocked my age
    My fertility, ironic.
    You saved me
    From a dark cage
    From myself, a tonic.
    ...

    ...I liked how you ended this...nicely done.

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    1. You are very kind to say so, thank you

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  25. I love how you brought this full circle...the nurturer becomes the nurtured.

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    1. How kind of you to say so, thank you.

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  26. ...these acts of kindness & care, if only realized by many, can make a big difference in this world where everything seemed to be already improvised... i loved this... smiles...

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    1. Thanks Kelvin, what can I say I just love trees!

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  27. Interesting that it is seven years, as in the feasts and famines of OT Joseph's dreams or the seven-year itch that is supposed to wreck marriages but never has wrecked a true marriage. It reads like a parable. Otherwise I would apply its ingredients to my Christmas cactus that hasn't bloomed these five years. I will keep it a few more, but I don't believe in it any more.

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    1. Susan, I hadn't made the 7 years connection, it was growing, just didn't bloom for 7 years, then I moved it to my alpine garden et voila, flowers!

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  28. There is a duality here that is very intriguing. Could be about a person as much as a tree. So beautiful a write.

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    1. You are right, it has a duality, it is about my relationship with the tree, I think that is why.

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  29. You have been very persistent with this tree. I admire your patience. How rewarding it must have felt when it finally bloomed. I also liked the metaphorical aspect of your poem, the idea that it can take years to bloom.

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    1. It can and does often take nature an age to bloom.

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  30. Some take longer than others, but then the blooming is usually worth the wait,

    Elizabeth

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    1. Elizabeth, it was truly worth it.

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  31. Your poem proves a belief I have long held... gardening nurtures the soul.

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    1. Kim, it definitely nurtures mine.

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  32. a good progression, and at the end, hope ~

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    1. Well, Keep hoping, I would like it to bloom again.

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  33. Metaphor of life..expressed in a wonderful manner !

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  34. nice rhymes!
    interesting title too. i don't do much gardening (not now anyway) so it's always good to read about such activity in a poem. :)

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  35. Nice. We all need saving in one way or another.

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