The Tree, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Dead Tree

The Tree, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Book in hand, fireplace near, sound attends me.
Slowly lifting my head to what it was.
Before my eyes sight many times did see,
Naked with arms stretched, seeking my applause.

Walked across room to get a better look,
The wind was shaking some small spindly arm.
Panoramic view the horizon took,
Soon snow to fill her arms will provide charm.

Many years had ax ready, but yielded.
Snow now ceasing leaving the Virgin’s coat,
So white and so pure now is protected.
Can’t dare put an ax to tree of such beaut.

Beauty in nature last but a moment,
As love in a poet’s internal sentiment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The poem was written to another painting which was more pristine. It was a John Atkinson Grimshaw painting of a neighborhood where one would expect a gentleman to be sitting about by the fireplace reading a book.  However, after coming across The Tree painting by Ron Bigony I feel that it adds more meaning to the poem.

There are people who plant annuals for they want the big color splash right away. Then there are those who tend garden with perennials which last some but days while others weeks.  Here we have neither but an example similar to the latter.  The man has a dead tree in his yard.  But he so enjoys the beauty of it when it is covered with snow that he dares not cut it down.  The man is gone yet the tree remains and yes it has snow on its branches, but a few lesser I would guess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

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