04-13-2014, 07:36 AM
Magnolia’s Annotations
Old lady Willow is weeping,
as she soaks her weary roots,
in the warm and languid water
of the Brandywine millpond.
The exotic Mimosas dance,
their pinnate leaves spread in fans.
They dress in inflorescence veils
of silken magenta strands.
Ash’s arm dangles in the breeze,
casting shadows on the church.
His bony and lecherous hand
paws dainty Easter dresses.
The mad Sycamores play foul jokes
on unwary guests below,
raining their bark and monkey balls,
amusing only themselves.
Groves of lanky Paper Birches
gather in consultation,
akin to wise elder wizards
in ceremonial robes.
Guardian Lombardy Poplars
falter on uncertain legs.
Their eyes are focused on the stars
as they watch for errant dreams.
We have no secrets in nature,
yet there’s intrigue on our stage,
but our arboretum drama
shouldn’t keep you up at night.
Old lady Willow is weeping,
as she soaks her weary roots,
in the warm and languid water
of the Brandywine millpond.
The exotic Mimosas dance,
their pinnate leaves spread in fans.
They dress in inflorescence veils
of silken magenta strands.
Ash’s arm dangles in the breeze,
casting shadows on the church.
His bony and lecherous hand
paws dainty Easter dresses.
The mad Sycamores play foul jokes
on unwary guests below,
raining their bark and monkey balls,
amusing only themselves.
Groves of lanky Paper Birches
gather in consultation,
akin to wise elder wizards
in ceremonial robes.
Guardian Lombardy Poplars
falter on uncertain legs.
Their eyes are focused on the stars
as they watch for errant dreams.
We have no secrets in nature,
yet there’s intrigue on our stage,
but our arboretum drama
shouldn’t keep you up at night.
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris