Forester
by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright )
Maybe a third
exquisitely clothes our land
in luxurious hues
of greens, reds, oranges
under blues
donned in vines or moss
by Designer
who's at ease in brilliant creativity.
Rays of beamed sun
streamed between dwarfed
stunted or towering trees
rustling ferns, oaks, or willows
weeping in the breeze.
Sustained
by their presence
I understand
believe now
after a tragic stint
in naivety.
You see,
in the distance I saw:
A loveliness to a majestic degree.
A vision rich in beauty,
Magnificent
to national multitudes
all in awe
need vehemently to agree;
since the earth abounds
in treasured leafy varieties.
Dashing into the dense essence
of one of these
a kitten prancing
in youthful exuberance
innocent and unprepared
in tragedy to sadly share.
I plead for forgiveness.
I pray for redemption
in my spread of wicked seeds.
The sun hung high.
The shade appealed.
My company pleasant.
Echoed, delightful squeals.
Hide and seek
along the fringe
is how the misery
begins.
In this deciduous forest,
where in fall
is bled millions of leaves
creating
a slippery floor
where insects, fungi, worms, and other organisms ultimately convert all
into an organic stew
humus, a ingredient vital of fertile soil.
No, nothing is wasted. All valued as pearls,
as these silent workers toil
preparing the dirt for wondrous
new growth to maintain
little children all over the world.
Beneath the dead, the soil teems with life.
We laughed and giggled too joyful for strife.
Yet, in dusk we played
unaware of the rife
of ignorance
children often display.
Searched we in fun for flowers
fleet in feet on a carefree run.
Passion berry and blue lily
scattered among our playground field.
A day forever
in memory done.
Mourning warblers, little songsters adorned
in dramatic grays, yellows, and olives
should've warned two little impish tykes
that amid the mystery reality bites
with reptiles, birds, insects, mammals
through hibernation needing survival too.
As my guardians in slumber stayed
I dared my little brother to slay the dragon
where he lay
inside a dark and lonely cave.
It was to be his final day.
*
Songs still break solemn silence
of deep forests in misleading revelry.
Yet, no longer do song sparrows greet me in cheerful repertoire as sorrow grips me in eternal grief, and while parents view me with understood enmity.
in luxurious hues
of greens, reds, oranges
under blues
donned in vines or moss
by Designer
who's at ease in brilliant creativity.
Rays of beamed sun
streamed between dwarfed
stunted or towering trees
rustling ferns, oaks, or willows
weeping in the breeze.
Sustained
by their presence
I understand
believe now
after a tragic stint
in naivety.
You see,
in the distance I saw:
A loveliness to a majestic degree.
A vision rich in beauty,
Magnificent
to national multitudes
all in awe
need vehemently to agree;
since the earth abounds
in treasured leafy varieties.
Dashing into the dense essence
of one of these
a kitten prancing
in youthful exuberance
innocent and unprepared
in tragedy to sadly share.
I plead for forgiveness.
I pray for redemption
in my spread of wicked seeds.
The sun hung high.
The shade appealed.
My company pleasant.
Echoed, delightful squeals.
Hide and seek
along the fringe
is how the misery
begins.
In this deciduous forest,
where in fall
is bled millions of leaves
creating
a slippery floor
where insects, fungi, worms, and other organisms ultimately convert all
into an organic stew
humus, a ingredient vital of fertile soil.
No, nothing is wasted. All valued as pearls,
as these silent workers toil
preparing the dirt for wondrous
new growth to maintain
little children all over the world.
Beneath the dead, the soil teems with life.
We laughed and giggled too joyful for strife.
Yet, in dusk we played
unaware of the rife
of ignorance
children often display.
Searched we in fun for flowers
fleet in feet on a carefree run.
Passion berry and blue lily
scattered among our playground field.
A day forever
in memory done.
Mourning warblers, little songsters adorned
in dramatic grays, yellows, and olives
should've warned two little impish tykes
that amid the mystery reality bites
with reptiles, birds, insects, mammals
through hibernation needing survival too.
As my guardians in slumber stayed
I dared my little brother to slay the dragon
where he lay
inside a dark and lonely cave.
It was to be his final day.
*
Songs still break solemn silence
of deep forests in misleading revelry.
Yet, no longer do song sparrows greet me in cheerful repertoire as sorrow grips me in eternal grief, and while parents view me with understood enmity.
Moving Art - Forests
Video is the prompt: https://youtu.be/nBH1v7UiWys
The full version is on Netflix if you have it.
Write about what forests, in all their natural beauty and diversity, inspire in you. It could be beauty and wonder, or of course, write something darker if that's your thing. Be observant, enthralled, metaphorical, scientific or mystical. Just be in a forest and tell it how it is for you. No rules - just something fresh - no prewrites - three awards for the top three.
Based upon: http://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2004042?q=forests&p=par
Video is the prompt: https://youtu.be/nBH1v7UiWys
The full version is on Netflix if you have it.
Write about what forests, in all their natural beauty and diversity, inspire in you. It could be beauty and wonder, or of course, write something darker if that's your thing. Be observant, enthralled, metaphorical, scientific or mystical. Just be in a forest and tell it how it is for you. No rules - just something fresh - no prewrites - three awards for the top three.
Based upon: http://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2004042?q=forests&p=par
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