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Posts Tagged ‘branch’

Spring

BURSTING FORTH

 

How I love those springtime buds

Bursting forth in scented duds

And soon their beauty will unfold

Great armloads for each branch to hold

 

7/12/00    Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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NATURE AS IT USED TO BE

 

There used to be a tapestry

Of nature’s verdant artistry

A hill where trees and wildlife grew

But now it’s gone from scenic view

Replaced by station and a shed

Both, painted blue and garish red

Like bleeding wounds upon the earth

Replacing years of ancient birth

 

No treetops where a breeze can sigh

In tender leafy lullaby

That cast their shadows down below

In summer’s rain and winter’s snow

No fingered roots to run down deep

Entwining willows that would weep

Embracing those of elm and spruce

And those with fruits once ripe with juice

 

No lovely blossoms, pink and white

Emitting fragrance day and night

Where bees paid visit in the spring

With busy wings that seemed to sing

 

No place for birds to stop and perch

On nesting-trees, like oak and birch

Where butterflies were wont to rest

While on relentless nectar quest

No more birds of brilliant hue

That flashed their colors as they flew

No place for squirrels to race around

On branch and trunk, down to the ground

 

The grove is gone and can’t return

Tall trees and bushes – flower and fern

And soon all spots of earthly class

Will be replaced by steel and glass

If I could only have my way

Such spots would be designed to stay

So in the future you could see

Nature as it used to be

 

7/16/92           Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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    JENNY’S SHOE BOX

 

She carried the box everywhere,

tied shut with soiled string.

The items held within its frame,

to her, meant everything.

It was full of priceless treasures

she’d found on nature quests:

such as small colorful pebbles,

and eggs from fallen nests,

some catkins from a willow branch,

fall leaves she’d pressed with care,

some tiny iridescent shells

and glossy corn-silk hair,

a hummingbird’s exquisite nest

she’d found at season’s end,

the spiraled tendril from a vine

with ornamental bend,

a stone shaped like a tiny bear,

some silky milkweed down,

a piece of pungent dark green moss,

and a small acorn crown,

fragile monarch butterfly wings,

and feathers of bright hue,

some tiny aromatic seeds,

and flower petals, too.

 

When asked about the things within,

the child was quick to say,

“The world is in this little box,

I see it everyday.

The contents that I treasure here,

are the greatest to be found.

They’re pieces of the universe

of touch and sight and sound.”

 

“I see the leaves of summertime

and fall’s golden brown.

I even see leaves lose their grip

and twirl as they float down.

I see milkweed pods opening,

and many birds in flight.

I see a nest of pale blue eggs,

and a horned owl at night.

Inside I hear a running stream

and breezes kissing trees.

I see a rainbow’s lovely arch,

and yellow bumblebees.

I see gently swaying corn-stalks

and flowers everywhere.

I see butterflies in sunlight.

flitting here and there.”

 

“The sky is mirrored in this box.

The earth is present, too.

If viewed with seeing heart and soul,

the world’s revealed to you.

I look inside this box each day

and touching each small thing,

I’m humbled at the beauty

that memory can bring.

I chose these things with utmost care,

researching day and night,

and memorized the way they looked —

before I lost my sight.

         

4/10/91        Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

3’rd … Arkansas NPD 1997

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