The Negligent Nights of Trees: Part Two
I land, my roots softly brushing the yellow cheesy texture of the moon’s surface.
My leaves fan out,
Searching for the sun that kept them warm.
My roots impale the soft ground,
Searching for the water that always fed them.
I inhale through the tiny nostrils of my leaves,
Searching for the cool air that always kept me safe,
I ached to cry,
Where has it all gone?
But trees do not cry,
Even mythical ones who take trips to the moon.
I can't breathe,
My trunk is cold,
As my limp length gravitates toward the moon’s once desirable surface,
I yearn for that tiny strip of land my trunk used to adorn,
And the notes of that dreadful bassoon that alighted it.
I remembered the kind man who sent me here,
And I hated him.
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Comments
Great follow up Caitlyn Lawyer..........and the first part is also a ballad? (very cool, what instrument?)........I'm a song-writer by profession so I'm a bit curious.........what's most interesting to me though .......is the way you use the English language.........you have a VERY unique way of putting words and phrases together.......and being so young makes me think you either read a lot........or you've just been touched by the literary Gods (lol!)........either way.........your stuff is compelling.........keep up the good work my friend.............smiles...........TÂ xx
Thank you, I do read a lot. And not a ballad in the sense that you are thinking, I mean a literary ballad. Our English teacher had us write ballads in the sense that they had to have a sort of rhythm to them, a flow. She had several standards as to how the ballad should go. As in it had to have a kind of story, it had to have at least four lines per stanza, and that it had a rhyme scheme. I had already written a poem weeks before (The Negligent Nights of Trees) that fit the description, I just had to put it into stanzas. When she read it, she asked me to write a second part about the tree's trip to the moon, so I did. I decided that since I only had like ten minutes to write one that I would just freestyle the poem. So this poem is very quick thinking on my part and can be considered a rough script of it.