Moonlight filtered through the gauzy curtains.
I knew the Golden Rain tree was just outside.
Memories washed over me,
climbing its branches, looking down from above.
I knew the Golden Rain tree was just outside.
How I love that tree, though now grown old,
bent with age, losing limbs.
Memories washed over me.
Remembering the cookouts, the laughter,
hearing its leaves rustle with an autumn breeze.
Climbing its branches, looking down from above,
I see Dad’s chair, vacant now,
some day the tree and I will join him.
Please join us as Mary instructs us on the Trimeric form today for dVerse Poets, Minding the Bar.
Mary
/ October 8, 2015Lovely trimeric, Gayle. You worked the form very well. It gives me a feeling of peacefulness as I read your words. The memories live on, and, yes, age affects us all; and it is probably best not to think too far in the future to the time when we will be someone’s memory as well!
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Thank you, Mary…I really liked working with this form. It seems to open up ideas as you use the repeated lines in it. No, no need to go down that future road too far. 🙂
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Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
/ October 8, 2015First I learned something new.. golden rain tree.. I think they would not grow here in Sweden.. but we do have a golden rain (laburnum).. then I love how you infused your poem with a softness, and peacefulness.. I would say your poem is very tender.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015We have a sub-tropical climate here so maybe it wouldn’t grow there, Bjorn. I like that my poem lent itself to tender memories…thank you. I really enjoyed the form and know I will use it in the future.
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Grace
/ October 8, 2015A very nostalgic write Gayle ~ I love the use of golden rain tree, a metaphor for things and people we know and love ~ Those memories will stay with us ~
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015That Golden Rain tree still resides at the house where I was raised and my mother is still there. It’s a great tree…so many memories of being in the backyard with it and Dad sitting underneath. Thanks, Grace.
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Glenn Buttkus
/ October 8, 2015I echo the accolades regarding the tenderness of the piece, tinged with sadness, sans remorse. Puts me in mind of the bristle cone pines that are thousands of years old, what history has saturated their bark & soiled their rings.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Those ancient trees of that age just blow my mind. I’m in awe. They truly are to be revered. And thank you, Glenn, for coming by.
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anmol(alias HA)
/ October 8, 2015Such a nostalgic piece, reminiscent of the good times. I like the gentle flow of your verse. Peaceful and quiet. I like it. 🙂
-HA
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Thanks so much, HA, I appreciate that. :~)
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katiemiafrederick
/ October 8, 2015Ancestors light no broken chain..
Hands of i and those enjoin..
Voices SinG ancestral realm..
Life goes.. comes again…
Hands of i and those enjoin..
struggles past grown strong..
challenge i.. live strong..
Voices SinG ancestral realm..
a dance of they.. a dance of i..
a fire of live.. in center heARt…
Life goes.. comes again…
Life here all.. now always..
Just N0W..:)
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015You are quite astute, Katie…our family’s hands have joined and grown strong. And that tree perhaps has been at the center as we have come and gone. Thank you.
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katiemiafrederick
/ October 10, 2015Smiles and thanks for your inspirational poem.. Friend..:)
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Sanaa Rizvi
/ October 8, 2015Ah yes… memories do tend to wash over like waves on the heart 🙂
Beautifully penned.
Lots of love,
Sanaa
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Yes, they do, Sanaa. Thanks very much. Wanted to tell you I tried to leave a comment for you yesterday but I didn’t see it “stick” so I’m sorry if it didn’t. Perhaps I’ll go check and see if it showed up after all.
Lots of love,
Gayle
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015It did show up after all…good! 🙂
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Gabriella
/ October 8, 2015I enjoyed the wistful tone of your poem and how you made us see that tree and fell your father’s absence.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Thank you, Gabriella. My Dad loved sitting out there in the backyard. 🙂
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thotpurge
/ October 8, 2015Oh that’s very poignant. Nicely done!
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Thanks so much, Thotpurge!
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Pleasant Street
/ October 8, 2015Lovely and wistful
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015I appreciate that…thanks.
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Sumana Roy
/ October 9, 2015love how the tree triggers fond memories…a beautiful use of the form…
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Yes, it does hold fond memories. It’s a beautiful tree. Thanks so much, Sumana.
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http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com
/ October 9, 2015An excellent use of the form, which suits the mood very well.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Hi Viv, thank you. I love this new form.
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georgeplace2013
/ October 9, 2015Lovely and nostalgic
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Thank you for coming by and commenting.
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Sherry Marr
/ October 9, 2015I love themental image I get of the golden rain tree. Lovely, Gayle.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015It’s a beautiful tree, Sherry, with golden flowers that bloom at the very top of it. It “rains” gold when they fall and cover the ground. Thank you!
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Victoria C. Slotto
/ October 9, 2015I love the theme of a tree as a harbinger of childhood memories. Mine was a pepper tree I used to climb and still go to for guided imagery sometimes. :0)
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015That tree is in my mother’s yard…the same place where we all grew up. It’s a very special tree. I like that you have a favorite tree too, Victoria. :~)
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Candy
/ October 9, 2015great memory of a beloved tree
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015Yes, thanks so much, Candy.
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lynn__
/ October 9, 2015What beautiful memories, Gayle…i think the roots must be golden too 🙂
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015I think so too, Lynn…thank you. 🙂
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Snakypoet (Rosemary Nissen-Wade)
/ October 10, 2015Your memories warm me too.
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Bodhirose
/ October 10, 2015So glad, Rosemary. xo
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Polly
/ October 12, 2015This is beautiful, Gayle, I see the laburnum tree that blossoms at my old home. Gorgeous.
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Bodhirose
/ October 12, 2015Thanks so much, Polly. I had to look up that Laburnum tree because you were the second person to mention it here. I found that it’s commonly called a Golden Chain tree. The tree that is at our mother’s house is called a Golden Rain and is a different tree altogether…but both are beautiful when in bloom with the shower of yellow blossoms.
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Sue Dreamwalker
/ October 14, 2015Such a poignant poem Gayle.. Loved it.. xxx
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Bodhirose
/ October 14, 2015Oh thank you, Sue. xo
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sharmishtha basu
/ October 27, 2015life! amazing poem Gayle.
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Bodhirose
/ October 27, 2015Yes, life. That tree is still in my mother’s yard…thank you, Trisha.
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