The tree stands like a sentinel.
Surveyor of the horizon.
Waving like an angry taskmaster,
At its audience of fools.
The roots spread out like the devils tablecloth,
Enticing the unwary to enter in.
The green canopy shudders in anticipation
As the sap drips slowly down,
The cracked bark as rough as a cats tongue
Licking at an old wound.
Forming strange craters that arrange themselves
As ogre's faces in this dark and shadowy place.
======
The Tall Tree
I want to be the tallest tree in this green clearing.
I want to wave my large green hat to the sun.
I want to be the one the children choose.
The one the small ones hide behind.
And the one the adventurous run to find.
Eager to scrape their hands and knees on my rough bark.
The one the lovers lay beside.
Their heads against my mossy roots.
Their bodies entwined as tightly as the ivy on my trunk.
The one the old ones rest against.
Lulled into sleep by soft breezes like playing chinese whispers.
And when they have gone.
I will open my arms to the creatures of the night.
As the chosen protector
I will wave my thousand fingers
And make 'v' signs to the world.
=======
The Sapling
Unseen by the many,
Glimpsed by the few.
As shy and timid as a hand-maiden.
Just three small leaves tightly folded
Like a bankers handkerchief.
Around a fragile stem
Desperate for survival.
Sending out its pin thin roots
On a prestined journey they spin out
Like an underground map.
Probing into the dark earth.
Where nothing gets through
Neither pain nor joy.
The clumsy foot shatters its dreams
Squashes its destiny.
Leaves it laying crumpled and bleeding.
All its efforts trampled on.
Left to merge with the earth
It recedes back into the womb it sprang from.
There are some beautiful lines here, Sandra. I nearly didn't post my efforts after reading yours!
ReplyDeleteYou clearly have a talent for this and I strongly suggest you consider incorporating poetry into your novel in some way. You could have a stand-alone piece at the start of each chapter, or weave it into the story somehow - perhaps Sarah writes poetry and reads it to the old men, or maybe someone finds some poetry written by one of the characters. I would enjoy reading a novel interspersed with poetry of this calibre and, if done carefully, it could add a new dimension to the story.
These are really beautiful Sandra. You really do have a great talent for poetry, and I agree with Julie's comments above. You almost have a small anthology here! Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThere'a great deal of careful thought gone into this and I applaud your efforts. If they were poems the similes would come too thick and fast (like...like...like...) but I think we can take them as responses to the exercise to create as many similes as possible, and in this they work triumphantly well. Hard to say which is my favourite but 'I want to wave my large green hat to the sun' really struck me - partly because there was a suggestion that what the tree wanted could not quite be accomplished, as if the tree were too root-bound to completely abandon itself; and 'like an underground map' contained a very effective play on words.
ReplyDeleteI think your shift into poetry-mode thinking has unleashed/given you new freedoms of expression and wording that could be used in your prose/novel.
ReplyDeleteI really liked your large green hat and angry taskmaster to audience of fools references.
Whether similes, poetry or not.. your use of new (to us), forms of expression, seem to have given you (and us) a different and enriched perspective on your writing.
Marvellous Sandra. I didn't suspect your poetic skills. I think they are all powerful pieces. PETER
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