My Window… #Poetry

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

The three cobnut trees outside my window

Are now dropping their leaves

With the oncoming scent of winter

I shall miss the green swaying dance

The slow tango, that extra rush of wind

When a car goes past

Sending their leaves into a sudden twist

A dance hardly mentioned these days

My age is peeking out from the Peter Pan

Self I know I am…

©anitadawes

Weekend Trip x2 #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

We seemed to be the only people

Sitting in this sun filled cathedral of tall trees

The rock warm beneath me

The space whispered of ancient times

Secrets I wish I could hear

I wondered if the stone I held would speak to me

I heard a loud splash, as if a stone

had been thrown into the river

Looking carefully, I could see no one

I took this as my answer

The stone was mine

I held it in my hand like a sacred treasure, a gift

I wonder what secrets

it might whisper to my waiting mind

I might have to wait a while

As I am not good at meditating

If anything comes, I will let you know…

©Anita Dawes

 

The Other Love in my Life…

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This is the first of many posts (I hope!) about the other part of my life that I love.

Bonsai…

This particular tree is not one of mine but I wish it was. A gingko, one of the oldest trees in living memory and might have been here when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

As you can tell from the trunk, it is very old in this picture too. It can take a many human lifetime for any tree to end up with a such a trunk as this. The leaves too, normally quite large, have become smaller and match the proportions of the tree very well.

Someone has cherished and cared for this beautiful tree for a very long time and I would love to know just how old it really is. Probably worth a small fortune too, which rules me out of ever owning such a specimen.

In the coming weeks I would like to introduce you to other lovely trees, some of them my own. And also just what owning a bonsai really means…

AAA (2)

#FlashFiction 99 word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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May 16, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that goes in search of trees. It can be one particular tree, a grove, woods, or forest. What makes the tree worth seeking? Go where the prompt leads!

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I don’t have to go too far to find a great tree.

It is in my garden, my beautiful gum tree.

Tall and magnificent, a small amount of wind

sets it swaying like a row of flamenco dancers

I can almost hear the roots tapping away

in time with the rhythm above.

Soothing and calming my mind.

I sit there often unburdening the misery

I have accrued over the last few days.

I know it listens, never judging.

The soft sway of its leaves above my head,

A blessing, a benediction.

Gentle giants, they are the air we breathe…

AAAAA

The View from my Writing Desk…

 

 

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Our Gum Tree

 

 

Although we live in a town, it isn’t an inner-city town. Tucked behind the South Downs in Hampshire, we are just 19 miles from the sea.

An ordinary town really, rows of streets spreading out from the town centre with all manner of shops and businesses. The local council keep it tidy and provide us with well-kept trees, bushes and green areas.

Sometimes, if you know where to look, you can find something special here, something that doesn’t quite belong. Hidden among the sprawling streets, small treasures can be found. Little rivers emerge unexpectedly, creating a magical atmosphere. ( I have recently found another such treasure. Post to follow…)

We have such an oddity in our back garden.

We all have trees and bushes in our gardens, but we have a giant gum tree. Far taller than our house, it dwarfs every tree for miles around.

It seems so much supple than other trees and maybe this has something to do with it being a gum tree. The leaves smell faintly of eucalyptus and it has such a graceful way of moving with the wind.

I watch this tree most mornings as I wait for my brain to warm up, but this morning we had the aftermath of Storm Eric.  The wind was fierce, so the view from my window was dramatic. Strong gusts tried to break the tree, viciously pushing and shoving until I thought one would give way. But the branches were so supple they simply danced away, ducking and weaving like a Whirling Dervish until the wind abated.

We could learn a lot from trees. Most of them have been here longer than we have and will remain long after we have gone. They survive, I think because they simply do what they were born to do and they do it well. They take what comes in their stride (so to speak) patiently waiting for the seasons to change or the wind to stop blowing.

A lesson for us all there, I think…