She is difficult that one,
snapping at me
more than once
if I just run by without
properly admiring
her beauty, and how
prettily her radiating canopy
overlaps the bank.

She always urges me
to sit on the grass, relax,
enjoy the scent of her, and
of her lake. I can’t bring myself
to tell her the water smells
quite brackish, so
I just take shallow breaths,
and hope she will not notice.

She is quite proud
of the cracks in her bark,
(beauty marks she calls them),
and her spot by the lake
she has defended
for many years,
though I think she
hates the cold season
when she has to shed
her leaves, vain little thing.

She likes to flaunt
her graceful limbs
to emphasise her stories.
I know she fibs,
what with remembering
knights and the ring
of their horse’s shoes
on cobblestone pavement,
but who am I to judge?

 

© november child
photo credit: Roberto Verzo via Flickr
in response to The Sunday Whirl Wordle 301
Mindlovermisery’s Menagerie Writing Prompt #209 “It’s All in the Title”
Radiate
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