Poems about spruce



1
2
>

№ 1115857

Little Spruce

Green forest child
You grow in sponge drenched soils
Drawing me in - an epiphyte longing
Sunlight piercing raindrops
Of lettuce lichens drinking
Mosses soaked, greening
Softly underfoot


spruce.

Author: CA Guilfoyle
+0-
Date: 12/01/2020


№ 1004924

Going to the spruce forest at night.

No, I am not alone
I turn to the sky
And glisten with the same stars
That touch the whole world
And I am not tired
My face is hidden in shadows
Covered in blood, sweet
And tears as well
But I am alive.
I feel the gravel beneath
And between my bare toes
That prickling fire air
Only sparks me more
Everything is heightened
In my scope of mind
And screaming with life
I know it deep down
Like a charge through my bones
And remember that I used to feel alone
But now I look up into
Her eyes, the universe
And know it was never true
I run past the illuminated windows
Of lives people have built
For themselves
And even feel connected
To what they represent
I make my decision and begin to fly
The distance from lonely
Growing inside
My roots are unwinding
And finally
Ripping free
From all the cages
I made throughout my years
I take the forest path
In the comfort of dark
So that I can be alone
But won't have to feel alone.
I sit among the towering old trees and
I breathe
A deep gulp of the universe
It is calm and eccentric
And everything at once
It breathes
I breathe
And I am not alone
Not ever
Wherever we are
We are not
Alone.


forest,  going,  night,  spruce.

Author: Brittle Bird
+0-
Date: 04/10/2019

№ 837845

Everybody's Gone to the Spruce Tree

Everybody's gone to the spruce tree
They say the tree shines magic bright
But when you get there you realize
All it does it turn black into white


spruce,  tree.

Author: Dr O
+0-
Date: 05/05/2019

№ 800126

Murder Spruce

His trees in the yard looked like
Men standing beside a dead
Body wondering what to do next,
With shovel branches
And shotgun leaves
Soaked in ember autumn blood.


spruce.

Author: Elizabeth
+0-
Date: 01/04/2019


№ 491861

Robert the Spruce

A caution to gardeners, be on your guard
There's a felon at work that'll lurk in your yard
He'll feast on your giblets and guzzle the juice
The serial cannibal: Robert the Spruce

He'll slyly survey his oblivious prey
Until one sorry night, as your drifting away
There's a bang and a rustle, you bustle outside
A hushed expectation inhibits your stride

Alarm bells are ringing, just seconds too late
As you stop and examine your tiny estate
Could that rustle have really been leaves on the breeze?
And since when did my garden have so many tr...


robert,  spruce.

Author: Ben Jones
+0-
Date: 25/06/2018

№ 445537

Blue Spruce

Blue Spruce

Do you walk in a desert the howling wind finds no rest within your tortured breast. The desert scrub can host many realities sadness scraped raw the only comfort rub the wound with desert sand pray its warmth will reach deeper give the hint of comfort long lost on a soul finding it hard to remember kindness and its affects. You wanted only what everyone wants comfort and fulfillment but you have found these have elusive qualities almost ghost like never lasting longer than fleeting moments. Will the road wind filled with expectation only to end in senseless nothingness. How many times can you smile through the tears get up and start again why not change your identity maybe the gods that have it in for you will be fooled give you the blessings that are common to so many. This is not what your day dreams envisioned who ever questioned or dared to think up these black mortifications. You look for a hand to guide but only find those that prize themselves and forget you leaving you even more lost than before. The edges of despair crowd in your mind swirls is their not a promised land for people like me. Maybe a move would be in order a new beginning surely a fresh start will win the day where did I hear that somewhere in the land of the truly delusional you find when yet again you find life shows its power to roll and out of nowhere unseen upheaval throws you for a hard spill. Now you find a veritable waste land but yours is city streets trash strewn among those that walk with empty stares. The hearts silently bleed the well where tears once were formed filled with debris still the echo can be heard from childhood laughter was it that terribly long ago. As it happens on those blessed occasions was it real or a dream you have enjoyed the pleasure of Christmas and the green fir trees that fill the local lots the scent that drifts from room to room the little wild thing setting there all aglow gives the sweetest thrill. What is a blue spruce in my mind I followed this rutted road through the forest green and the mist had settled insulating every living thing with vibrancy this the most wondrous scene the forest truly gleams. Stand among the towering giants what a hush you are bombarded by the silence you are in the greatest ease a freefall into this quietude quiet breathing is all that is heard as wonder destroys every vesture of disquiet and alarm. Your vision intensifies as this endless pleasure mounts your soul grows its edges that were raggedly torn now renewed fully healed. What a fortress this stand of trees a thousand enemies could never surmount this pure airy wood not a king here stands but a poor beggarly soul has found the greatest virgin land bequeathed by nature's bountiful generosity in any direction even the lofty height held with sterling sites this never could be bought even gold bows its self down to this sacred grove diamonds and emeralds fair no better their worth seems undignified here. The question arises does this place exist a great English writer wrote of the cathedral in the pine yes both places exist the sadness described in the beginning and this wondrous place a wonderful preacher related this story of a blue spruce he encountered in years long gone by it was different than just the run of the mill blue spruce you usually found he inquired of the nursery owner about the shape and color. He was told this one has been grafted by this means it never loses its rich blue color. The point was we need to be grafted into the true vine. The most important guide post to finding this glorious life while on earth is follow the sacred text that says if you truly desire truth on the inward parts you will find it. Many doors are marked holy and blessed but after entering you find only the tormented false ideas of self important men. He is the door and those that enter there will set among angels and the life of the blue spruce will be yours not inferior given to fading to lonely darkened gray but vibrant hues of azure blue your home in that blessed promise laughter and joy your possession forever more.


blue,  spruce.

Author: Hal Loyd Denton
+0-
Date: 14/05/2018


№ 444427

Blue Spruce

Do you walk in a desert the howling wind finds no rest within your tortured breast. The desert scrub can host many realities sadness scraped raw the only comfort rub the wound with desert sand pray its warmth will reach deeper give the hint of comfort long lost on a soul finding it hard to remember kindness and its affects. You wanted only what everyone wants comfort and fulfillment but you have found these have elusive qualities almost ghost like never lasting longer than fleeting moments. Will the road wind filled with expectation only to end in senseless nothingness. How many times can you smile through the tears get up and start again why not change your identity maybe the gods that have it in for you will be fooled give you the blessings that are common to so many. This is not what your day dreams envisioned who ever questioned or dared to think up these black mortifications. You look for a hand to guide but only find those that prize themselves and forget you leaving you even more lost than before. The edges of despair crowd in your mind swirls is their not a promised land for people like me. Maybe a move would be in order a new beginning surely a fresh start will win the day where did I hear that somewhere in the land of the truly delusional you find when yet again you find life shows its power to roll and out of nowhere unseen upheaval throws you for a hard spill. Now you find a veritable waste land but yours is city streets trash strewn among those that walk with empty stares. The hearts silently bleed the well where tears once were formed filled with debris still the echo can be heard from childhood laughter was it that terribly long ago. As it happens on those blessed occasions was it real or a dream you have enjoyed the pleasure of Christmas and the green fir trees that fill the local lots the scent that drifts from room to room the little wild thing setting there all aglow gives the sweetest thrill. What is a blue spruce in my mind I followed this rutted road through the forest green and the mist had settled insulating every living thing with vibrancy this the most wondrous scene the forest truly gleams. Stand among the towering giants what a hush you are bombarded by the silence you are in the greatest ease a freefall into this quietude quiet breathing is all that is heard as wonder destroys every vesture of disquiet and alarm. Your vision intensifies as this endless pleasure mounts your soul grows its edges that were raggedly torn now renewed fully healed. What a fortress this stand of trees a thousand enemies could never surmount this pure airy wood not a king here stands but a poor beggarly soul has found the greatest virgin land bequeathed by nature's bountiful generosity in any direction even the lofty height held with sterling sites this never could be bought even gold bows its self down to this sacred grove diamonds and emeralds fair no better their worth seems undignified here. The question arises does this place exist a great English writer wrote of the cathedral in the pine yes both places exist the sadness described in the beginning and this wondrous place a wonderful preacher related this story of a blue spruce he encountered in years long gone by it was different than just the run of the mill blue spruce you usually found he inquired of the nursery owner about the shape and color. He was told this one has been grafted by this means it never loses its rich blue color. The point was we need to be grafted into the true vine. The most important guide post to finding this glorious life while on earth is follow the sacred text that says if you truly desire truth on the inward parts you will find it. Many doors are marked holy and blessed but after entering you find only the tormented false ideas of self important men. He is the door and those that enter there will set among angels and the life of the blue spruce will be yours not inferior given to fading to lonely darkened gray but vibrant hues of azure blue your home in that blessed promise laughter and joy your possession forever more.


blue,  spruce.

Author: Hal Loyd Denton
+0-
Date: 13/05/2018

№ 390142

Blue Spruce

Blue Spruce

Do you walk in a desert the howling wind finds no rest within your tortured breast. The desert scrub can host many realities sadness scraped raw the only comfort rub the wound with desert sand pray its

Warmth will reach deeper give the hint of comfort long lost on a soul finding it hard to remember kindness and its affects. You wanted only what everyone wants comfort and fulfillment but you have

Found these have elusive qualities almost ghost like never lasting longer than fleeting moments. Will the
Road wind filled with expectation only to end in senseless nothingness. How many times can you smile

Through the tears get up and start again why not change your identity maybe the gods that have it in for
You will be fooled give you the blessings that are common to so many. This is not what your day dreams

Envisioned who ever questioned or dared to think up these black mortifications. You look for a hand to guide but only find those that prize themselves and forget you leaving you even more lost than before.

The edges of despair crowd in your mind swirls is their not a promised land for people like me. Maybe a
Move would be in order a new beginning surely a fresh start will win the day where did I hear that

Somewhere in the land of the truly delusional you find when yet again you find life shows its power to roll and out of nowhere unseen upheaval throws you for a hard spill. Now you find a veritable waste land but

Yours is city streets trash strewn among those that walk with empty stares. The hearts silently bleed the
Well where tears once were formed filled with debris still the echo can be heard from childhood laughter

Was it that terribly long ago. As it happens on those blessed occasions was it real or a dream you have
Enjoyed the pleasure of Christmas and the green fir trees that fill the local lots the scent that drifts from

Room to room the little wild thing setting there all aglow gives the sweetest thrill. What is a blue spruce in
My mind I followed this rutted road through the forest green and the mist had settled insulating every

Living thing with vibrancy this the most wondrous scene the forest truly gleams. Stand among the towering giants what a hush you are bombarded by the silence you are in the greatest ease a freefall into

This quietude quiet breathing is all that is heard as wonder destroys every vesture of disquiet and alarm.
Loses its rich blue color. The point was we need to be grafted into the true vine. The most important guide

Post to finding this glorious life while on earth is follow the sacred text that says if you truly desire truth on the inward parts you will find it. Many doors are marked holy and blessed but after entering you find

Only the tormented false ideas of self important men. He is the door and those that enter there will set among angels and the life of the blue spruce will be yours not inferior given to fading to lonely darkened

Gray but vibrant hues of azure blue your home in that blessed promise laughter and joy your possession forever more.


blue,  spruce.

Author: Hal Loyd Denton
+0-
Date: 25/03/2018

1
2
>