Wednesday, May 6, 2015

The Lonely Tree

Once upon a time on a starry night
There stood a tree that was quite a sight
It was rooted in a valley by a silvery pond
Surrounded by mountains from dusk 'til dawn

It's trunk was rough, it's branches were bare
It was strong and tall, but felt lonely there
The only living thing for miles around
The tree grew sad that the only sounds
It could hear were the rippling pond and the wind
Little did it know that new life would begin

For on that very night, for whatever reason
Birds migrated to that valley. Perhaps it was the season?
2 birds came and perched on that lonely tree
The tree was so excited it could barely breathe
One bird was yellow, the other one pink
They saw each other and they each began to sing
They sang of lovely clouds and what it was to fly
Their song was so beautiful, the tree could only sigh
The singing birds grew closer, continuing their tune
By the end they were side-by-side, gazing at the moon

The lonely tree was deeply moved by this touching scene
It began remembering olden days, when it was young and green
Even when the birds flew off, the tree was still content
It kept their song in its heart and was never lonely again.
This painting I copied around October 2014. Obviously I took plenty of artistic liberties with my version.  More wavy water, bigger mountains, starry night, the little birds. ^,^ Hope you like the poem.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Blues, Greens, and Aquamarines

Blues, greens, aquamarines,
Of rippling reflections.
It's hard to reflect properly,
When the weeping willow hangs so heavily.

Lily pads sprouting pink and yellow flowers
Make me stare at this pretty pond for hours.
I try to get past the surface, to the murky depths below,
But the refracting light blinds me, the foggy waters have nothing to show.

Then I spot a little ladybug buzzing,
Touching down
On a small green pad.
It had to be tired of flying.

I wondered how far it had traveled,
How far it still had to go.
This was only one of the stops
On the spotted beetle's journey.

Soon it will take off again,
And forget this lonely place
Of placid languishing and wishing.

I don't believe I'll stay here long.
Like water, I want to flow like a song.
I can't be stagnant, that feels wrong.

Thinking fresher thoughts, I take my leave
Of these blues, greens, and aquamarines.
I copied this painting way back in February 2014 at an art class. The one at the top is my interpretation, and it hangs on the wall right next to my bed. This morning I was looking at it, and suddenly I got inspired to write a poem about it. ^,^

I've done a handful of other paintings in the past. Maybe I'll write poems based on those too...