Souls of Trees

writing exercise theme: "wood"

Your skin is the color of varnished walnut,

mine, unfinished white pine.

My hair is shellacked maple in sunlight,

yours, the sides of old barns we played in

as children, aged driftwood on quartz sands.

Your eyes are polished golden oak,

mine are mahogany in dappled shadow.

My spirit is willow, I bend in strong winds

under the strain of great weight,

and do not break. You are liquidambar,

sturdy, supporting the sky. We are derived

of trees, but not made of them.

My soul is not wood, I cannot be left

untended in silence and forgotten

covered with dust in the corner of some

abandoned room in your memory; I need

your voice to plunge my roots and grow them

into this ground, I need your hands to polish

the grain of this life lived between worlds.

One song to the sky, one to the sun, a third

to the rain and the fourth and last

to the rock of your heart that I would break

open if you would only tell me, how.

I love your inner and outer beauty

from a distance, as one admires exquisite

antique furniture in museums dedicated

to former heads of state, but fine material

needs to be taken out of storage, sanded,

caressed, varnished. Put to good use.

Arranged with something beautiful by hands

that only know how to make your love glow,

like polished wood.

Reviews

[Danny Metcalfe]

'Your eyes are polished golden oak,
mine are mahogany in dappled shadow.
My spirit is willow, I bend in strong winds
under the strain of great weight,
and do not break'

I really like these lines.

And the ending is very strong.

Very nice. :)

[Diane]

This poem read very nicely. I love the awesome descriptions and the way your words flow so just right.

[Vertigo Cat1111]

The artistry and detail in this are so intense and beautiful! A true poet, writing poems full of detail and beauty, and all of your poems are read are so wonderful.