Three Poems

"Today I have grown taller from walking with the trees."
-Karle Wilson Baker
(1878-1960) U.S. poet

************************
A poem about the stars
Written at midnight
With no lights on.

Oak tree has caught
stars in her arms,
gathering them
like diamond chips
in the hem
of an evening gown.
She weaves them
into her branches
with practiced ease,
and her fingers point to
the moon as it
illuminates her
handiwork.

**************

It was snowing by two.
The pale, nervous flakes
fluttering down like the
insides of a feather pillow.
A sheet of grey cloud
shuddered across the sky,
and bare tree branches
trembled at the coming of snow.

********************************

One day the leaves grew restless—
They murmured and shivered and hung.
They naturally,finally,decided to fly,
And silently cheered as their bodies were flung.
They fell with a whispering crash below—
They were colorful, lively, and free.
They rustled and swirled as they tickled the street,
And danced through the wind with glee.

National Poetry Month

Welcome to it! I'll be posting some of mine soon, but here's another's for now.

Advice to Writers
by Billy Collins

Even if it keeps you up all night,
Wash down the walls and scrub the floor
of your study before composing a syllable.
Clean the place as if the Pope were on his way.
Spotlessness is the niece of inspiration.

The more you clean, the more brilliant
your writing will be, so do not hesitate to take
to the open fields to scour the undersides
of rocks or swab in the dark forest
upper branches, nests full of eggs.

When you find your way back home
and stow the sponges and brushes under the sink,
you will behold in the light of dawn
the immaculate alter of your desk,
a clean surface in the middle of a clean world.

From a small vase, sparkling blue, lift
a yellow pencil, the sharpest of the bouquet,
and cover the pages with sentences
like long rows of devoted antsthat followed you in from the woods.