The Maple Tree
How delightful and forceful you are.
As your enormity
Of the woods you are full
Of brightness, how your
Brilliantly shaded leaves fills my heart
With the best substance gracious I do cherish
All the various shades of Ruby, Emerald, Gold, Bronze,
What’s more, ensures me. You are a glad and respectable watchman
What’s more, loaded up with vitality like the spring
Your dropped leaves crunch emphatically
Underneath my feet as I walk
Around you respecting your greatness
Your astounding aroma is better than a rose
On a late spring’s day when your sap
Is made to maple syrup its incredibleness
Melts in my mouth it is better than
Any taste sugar could make all alone
You are life itself for without you
There is no oxygen without you
Miracle and riddle, are no longer in presence.
The Old Pine Tree
Where the Sound and the Ocean stream
In the home of the osprey, and the white-tailed deer
I review the tune of the goldfinch in May
It’s charming woodwind like notes are with me today
In extravagant I hear it in a removed sky
Over the tree line it pipes as it flies
In extravagant the tune of the scoop I hear
The waterway it sings in to me appears to be very close
The light earthy colored squirrel with breasts as white as snow
One of Nature’s tree abiding rodents that I used to know.
That old pine tree has brought me extremely far,
With that sweet aroma of delight
I will always remember, even from afar.
Today around evening time I picked a way, followed to its end and it was cut off
Continued driving not far off, to discover another way
Night air consumed sweet as incense over the green water,
Clear and cold snow run-off, up in the mountains
Where otters made their play
A hummingbird came to make proper acquaintance, singing in my hair as I
Shook my head around to see it, withdrawing and returning
My vehicle passed on, I simply lay in the sand
Putting my toes in
That stream running down, on the off chance that I could just bear it
I’d slip into its current, develop rough blades,
Gracious I’d never return, however for the memory
Over the way, overwhelming with trees and a stone face
Burned by flames of voyagers cruised by
There are tusks, elk and such, oft in the timberland
Their hoofprints in the sea shore I walk
My toes trailing over the stones, fingers trailing wind
A little stone, got up to speed from the water, shining emerald, Taken
I wish you’d come dream here with me
For I dread everything only a fantasy inside my head
In evening play of light and shadow
over the gully, the light green flush
of early grass, quieted blue
of new developed sage, and yellow blaze
of balsamroot are examined
in the vigilant eye of bighorn sheep.
Sure-footed, jumping through the scree,
extinguish their thirst at a mountain spring.
This scene ought to be interminable, yet it’s definitely not,
despite the fact that its history is composed on the rocks
in ocher, dark and gold, for anybody who cares to gain proficiency with the language.
There’s fact if not excellence in the information
that nothing turns out a remarkable way we thought.
The Bald Eagle
A seal of our local land;
With unbleached front and honorable temple,
Among the countries bound to stand;
Pleased, similar to your relentless mountain woods;
Like your own waterways meandering free;
Furthermore, sending forward from slopes and floods
The glad yell of freedom!
Like thee, superb fledgling! like thee,
You remain in unbought grandness,
With spreading wings, untired and solid,
That challenges a taking off far and long,
You take a gander at the fish beneath pondering,
Which of you will be supper
The adoration of earth,
In terrific straightforwardness you stand;
Like thee, the tempests viewed her introduction to the world,
Be that as it may, stuck the wild and irate war,
To look for the safe house of your wings.
Relentless as Rome, all the more respectably free.
The Fish Hunting Osprey
Before long as the sun, incredible leader of the year,
Curves to our northern clime his brilliant profession,
Also, from the caverns of sea calls from rest
The finny shores and hordes of the profound;
When frigid whirlwinds back to Greenland ride,
Furthermore, day and night the equivalent hours isolate;
Consistent with the season, o’er our ocean beat shore,
The cruising osprey high apparently soars,
With expansive unmoving wing, and, revolving around moderate,
Denotes each free stray in the far beneath;
Ranges down like lightning! plunges with a thunder!
Also, bears his battling casualty to the shore.
The since quite a while ago housed angler views with delight
The notable signs of his unpleasant utilize;
What’s more, as he bears his nets and paddles along,
In this manner hails the welcome season with a melody.
Ode to an Oak Tree
Structure of common excellence and effortlessness,
I could follow the shapes of your branches
throughout the day.
At the point when summer comes in its brilliance,
You welcome me outside.
Looking as I have some good times and appreciate the day.
Crows groom themselves and caw out to the normal world
From your covering.
Crows home inside your marvelous statues
Furthermore, worms jab their heads through your fallen leaves
After a pre-winter shower.