The Tree In The Middle

Shades of greens outside
Foliage sprouting all around
Tall trees opening green leaves
One half size tree in middle
Sprouting nothing but pink petals
Showing off its new wardrobe.


Poem Published on Spillwords for #SpillwordsXmas

For Christmas I have two poem that will be published on Spillwords. For today’s poem it is “Choose A Christmas Tree”. Click here to view at

I Took a Dollar Bill [Revision]

Today I took a dollar bill,
Went outside in backyard near.
Dug a hole so deep,
Buried the dollar bill there.
Watered it day and night,
Gave thanks for the dollar bill.
I watched roots take hold,
In soil that was on a hill.
A tree began to grow,
And grow it ready did.
Instead of leaves I saw,
Now dollar bills instead.
I gave thanks to dollar tree,
As I cut each bill down.
I pass out to people I met,
In each and every town;
They were gratful for the bills
I went and planted another one down the hill.

Busy In A Tree Revised

I did not stop to chat with you,
As you were busy in a tree
Swinging your slender arms
Back in forth on a branch.

Tree was high with apples
And green leaves hiding you
Where you were picking from the tree,
By virbrating branch
Back and forth, back and forth.

I didn’t want to startle you there
For you could fall and besides
The point, I had a birthday gift
Which you were not allow to see.

So on I went to your place,
But I had the feeling you were watching me
From between the green leaves of the tree
Hoping to spy the gift I was going to give to thee.

April 29th 2015 poem: Choose one of the poems you have drafted this month and revise it at least one of these ways: break it into stanzas, or make it all one stanza; cut every other line; or add a line between each line.

Patch Of Brown Leaves

Among the tree full of green leaves
A patch of brown leaves I see
Standing out lonely from others.
Why are you not green like the rest?
Did you feel the cold quicker
In early months of the year
While the rest were still growing?
Did you bud to early and now
You turn old ready to fall to ground?
Or is it because the weather
Fluctuated from hot to cold
And so you lost your green pigment?
Silent not answering you’re attach
For you are too high in tree.
My words are muffled among
Your fellow leaves surrounding you.

The Cold Oak

I trudged down the snowy lane one day
Up to the rounded oak tree standing against
Blustering snow; twirling, swirling through
Its bare stark branches shivering against the cold.
I would ask the oak how it feels to stand out
Through the wintry season of cold, snow and ice.
But, he did not answer back as he continued
To shake his branches of snow landing down neatly
I would offer my coat or scarf–
But no not large enough to wear on an oak
Who has endured year after year standing silently alone
In this wintry mix of falling snow.