My Poet Tree

He wants to see my poetry,
My Poet Tree
Standing ever faithful, ever guiding as we grow for Ages.
I will count the rings of childhood's friends and enemies.
At times, sings the fear and bravery watching death draw near.
My Poet Tree, my poetry... The Love of my Life.

The yearning and sleepless nights with puddles resting under my roots.
I see your tower and I know you're there.
Because you are everywhere.
My Poet Tree, my poetry.

No more nests, nor sun, nor clouds.

Just blue. For you.


My Poetry.