The Tree
by Chris Bohnhoff

I have a carpet of velvet ferns.  I have no walls; the forest my home
No rules govern my life; I’m free, as free as a bird” said the tree
“The sky is mine, my path divine
I soar, I swoop to infinity,” said the swiftly buzzing bee

“My roof is my own, a thatch of woven needles
I have no dues, no dates to see.  No animal compares to me.”
“You cannot move, you’re anchored fast
Just watching, oh, ’t would be a bore, while bees can fly forevermore.”

“But nay,” explained the patient tree.  “For my sides are ragged with age
And each day has brought to me, sights unseen by busy bees
I hear the wind blow swift and free, the river sings melodically
Each weathered scratch that you can see marks a new discovery.”
The scoffing bee, away has flown; the wise old tree lets out a moan
“That poor bee never will have known the things I cherish for my own.”

previous   next

Poem Copyright © 2002 by Chris Bohnhoff

 

 

Home   Enter Poetry Contest Online   Enter Poetry Contest By Mail   Contest Rules   Educators

Frequently Asked Questions   Certificates   Winning Entries   Order Status   Imagine Poetry Book

Published Authors' Poetry On the Web   Public Library Catalogue Service

What People Are Saying   About Us   Contact Us   Privacy Policy   Order Poetry Books

All content Copyright © 1998-2017 by the America Library of Poetry.  All Rights Reserved.