Our first nature poem is an old one by Robert Frost, called "The Sound Of Trees". Maybe someone might be inspired to write an original poem for us one of these times. It most likely won't be me, because I have no talent for such things. Until then, I can bring you some classics like this one.
The Sound Of Trees
by Robert Frost
I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.
My favorite tree poem is one that most people know. Here it is.ReplyDelete
by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)
THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
"Trees" was originally published in Trees and Other Poems. Joyce Kilmer. New York: George H. Doran Company, 1914.
When I Am Among the TreesReplyDelete
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
~ Mary Oliver ~
There is a Shingle Oak
That holds its leaves now.
When the cold wind blows
It's leaves sound
Like your teeth shattering.
Out On The Prairie
what a lovely collection of poems, my only disappointment is that here in the middle of winter I was hoping for a video with the sound of wind in the trees. Why has no one done that?ReplyDelete
@Emma and @Out On The Prairie -ReplyDelete
Thanks for the wonderful poems. They made the post three times as good.
@Country Mouse Studios -
A video with trees blowing in the wind with sound to go with it sounds like a great idea. I'll see if I can get something like that as Cool Nature Video one of these times.