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Poem of the Week – The Pumkin Tree and the Whispering Tree

Night-clad at my window, when dark enchants the sky,
And misty looping ribbons dance to whispers by and by,
The Pumpkin tree stands listening. Dark fingers pierce the sky,
Whilst the whispering tree sighs gently, you can hear her if you try.
She sings of tiny acorns that grow up to be ships,
And boys that climb and girls that scold the boys with cherry lips,
For all good children understand they never should have played,
Near the midnight forest, or into the moonlight strayed.
And she sings of pirate treasures, in chests of finest Oak,
Whilst the pumpkin tree listens silently beneath a midnight cloak.

The pumpkin tree was once a child, who tarried for too long,
And strayed too near the whispering tree enchanted by her song.
For those that stop to listen, succumbing to her charms,
When the old moon slumbers gently safe in the new moons arms,
Will become part of the forest and it’s rumoured on the breeze.
That their tiny faces are etched within the bark of midnight trees.
Night-clad at my window, when dark enchants the sky,
And misty looping ribbons dance to whispers by and by.
The Pumpkin tree stands listening, dark fingers pierce the sky,
The whispering tree sighs gently, you can hear her if you try.

© 2013 Dr. Paul Barker All Rights Reserved


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