Frequently the wood sare pink
wrote Emily Dickinson, fairly described
as transcendental romantic, I think
was she referencing blossom-time
when gaudy pinks and whites
to win the bees attention fight
that time when we remember
trees are but giant flowering plants
dependent on the tiny pollinator
to close life’s circle with their aerial dance
flowers followed in short order by the clichéd
thousand shades of green
my own favourite time to see
the thin veil delicately drawn
across the Winter-wakened trees
and as the leaves thicken
and take on Summer shades
each tree can be read from a distance
picked out from its companions in the glade
But wait – in Winter too
a palette of subtle colours
also distinguish each species
one from another
colours hard to pin down
from mauves and greys
to blues and nearly brown
and never black except
in solitary silhouette
and frequently the woods are pink
Written for dVerse Poets Pub where the host is Björn Rudberg (brudberg) in Live, OpenLinkNight, Uncategorized
Yes… trees are so much more than green (the most boring time is summer when the wood maximizes its greeness.
This is absolutely stunning! I especially love; “But wait – in Winter too a palette of subtle colours also distinguish each species one from another.” ❤️❤️
Driving home, the hills along the valley are picked out in various deciduous hues but also in the winter, the bare trees are different colours too…
Fighting for bees attention … cannot get the fanciful image out of my mind, nor this beautiful poem.
One year, when the trees were in flower, and not the showy blossoms but the more modest green offerings of Lime trees and Sycamore, I decided to photograph the tree flowers for it suddenly struck me that we forget that trees belong to the flowering plants – ever since childhood, we draw flowers and we draw trees separately…
And there is also the sunset that spills into the wood.
True there is tat lovely golden green of trees towards sunset, but the sunset or sunrise on the naked trees is even more special I think…
Good to see you and hear you read today, Andrew, even if it wasn’t this poem. So true that beauty may be found if we choose to look closely.
Good to see you too Lisa – I enjoyed hearing you read too, brief though it was…
The colours really shone through in this poem, Andrew, and I like the flow of the rhymes. I especially love these haunting lines:
‘the thin veil delicately drawn
across the Winter-wakened trees’
and
‘colours hard to pin down
from mauves and greys
to blues and nearly brown
and never black except
in solitary silhouette’.
By the way it’s ‘Frequently the woods are pink’.
Thanks for confirming that Kim,I wondered about the woods v. wood yet the link given had wood both in the title and the poem so I was unsure…
It was great to hear your Hughes poem Andrew. I enjoyed reading this one too, the contrasts of large plants and tiny pollinator and the depthing of colour and changes in season – so rich.
Hi Paul – thanks for that, the one I read was posted in October I think – they are all on my Poems Page on the site. In fact it references three poets Hughes for the idea of the grin in many versions, WB Yeats inspired the dialogue or question and response and Andrew Marvell is the poet in the last stanza. It was great fur to weave those poets together but it was a misunderstanding of the dVerse prompt and so I had to write a further poem in the post too!
It was great hearing you read yesterday, and I like this poem, too, with such a keen observation of trees, color, and light. They are beautiful in any season, aren’t they. When I walk early in the morning as the sun is just rising, even the bare branches glow and look red.
(You have a typo in the first line.)
Thank you Merril – good to hear you too – I often wish when driving in the winter that I had someone in the car to point out to, the subtle beauty of winter trees shades…
A universe is just waiting to be seen if we just open our eyes, no matter the season. What a kaleidoscope of color and sensation, Andrew.
“and never black except
in solitary silhouette”
❤️