It be
A tree,
That sings to me,
So soft and sweet
Upon the breeze.

If she
Could see
This hallowed tree
Swelling high, in piety;
This arbre de vie

I'm sure she'd breathe
Sotto voce,
Gazing in a reverie.
I'm sure she'd speak; so quietly
Of its gentle poetry.

Its arms that wave so lazily;
Its embrace offered sleepily.
Its peaceful plea:
Somewhere safe for all the needy;
Shelter from the cold and greedy.

Then I think she'd say to me:
Mother Nature never was so obviously
Present as in the soul of this tree;
And then I think she'd say to me:
Let's stay here, for eternity.

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Author guidance for This poem

Inspired by the doggerel form introduced for the Poetry Tournament, I wrote this.

It wasn't entered, as it's too long, but I'm still reasonably pleased with it.

updated Mar 9 '11 by Miserabilia