Rising out of the trees,
a misty wafting of moisture raising
skyward amidst the changing leaves, colors
ablaze against an ashen sky. Much heat in the
oranges, warmth in the golden hues, the
crackle of crimson, crisp and clear.
From here, as
the morning
awakens, my
soul is shaken
by the beauty,
and stirred by
the illusion;
visual intrusion
of autumnal foliage,
appearing to smolder as night bids adieu.
Walt
Oh, WOW!!! Stunning in the expression of imagery, and perfect in form. Welcome home, Walt. So good to have you back.
ReplyDeleteM.E.
Walt--like these concrete ideas!
ReplyDeleteThanks Marie, Patricia. Driving through Pennsylvania as the daylight started to break, the colors of the foliage were "on fire". But the fog was so heavy and low hanging, it looked like smoke coming from the tree tops as it lifted. It set a surreal scene. Wished I could have stopped to photograph it.
ReplyDeleteThat is absolutely gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteYou are such an inspiration.
GREAT poem.
On further thought, Walt, I can picture this scenery exactly. When I was a Senior in high school, I was given the opportunity to spend an exchange week with peers in Emporium PA. It was in the fall and I was totally amazed by the beauty of the trees!
ReplyDeleteSomehow, along the way in Ontario, we lost a lot of trees, evergreens and others.
Whenever I see the forested areas of New York state and Pennsylvania, I think that somebody made some great decisions to protect these resources!
Wow, that was awesome. It LOOKS like an autumn tree!! Can I be jealous? Pwease?
ReplyDeleteWalt, this tree is so beautiful it could grow out of concrete! A truly lovely poem, and a work of art.
ReplyDelete~Colette D
Thanks all. It surely made an impression and glad it translated well on paper. Colette, good to see you visit. Cat, welcome. The rest of you are like a comfortable warm wrap on a cold December day. I appreciate you all.
ReplyDelete"A comfortable warm wrap on a cold December day." Awwww!!!
ReplyDeleteM.E.
Walt, as Marie will tell you, I'm not a poet, but I do enjoy reading good poetry. I'm a writer, but also an artist, and as I read your poem today, my mind became a paint brush slipping quietly across a blank canvas, dipping into puddles of crimson and gold and brown, as tall trees took shape, their autumn colors gently moving in rhythm with the grey mist whispering around them.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful work...thank you!
Mikki
Mikki, You're welcome, and thank you. I paint as well, so I can appreciate what you have said. But lately, my canvas has been a blank page with words as my medium. That I conveyed that scene as well as you say, means a lot to me.
ReplyDeleteShiny!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this with us.
I'm not into poetry, so this was an experience. The subject "Forest Fire" to me is hot, threatening and destructive. You presented the idea of it being much more positive and, well colorful than I imaged. If I expressed that right. Thank you. Dennis from Richmond
ReplyDeleteWow, Walt. What beautiful imagery. Just how long did this take you?
ReplyDeleteCan I request another tree-shaped poem? Or maybe a flower! No pressure... ;)
Oh, excuse me, I know you through our beautiful Marie.
Thanks for the support, Kate, Dennis and Shauna. Your expression was spot on Dennis. Shauna, the poet came first. Sculpting the image was just a matter of shifting the words. When the poem calls for it, I'll post another tree. Check the older posts for a sailboat and the Niagara River.
ReplyDeleteWalt,
ReplyDeleteYou're doing it again. You're showing the world why so many call you Laureate. It was marveloous and creative and so much a part of you. Thank you for sharing it.
Clauds