On this afternoon

[Lyn05]

I stare ahead,
Watching the trees patronize the wind
As they let their leaves move along with it
But not releasing their firm grip on the soil beneath.
The trees laugh a sound of coarse sand,
rustling as they are tickled,
And the wind, seeming to have noticed
his futile efforts to carry the trees
stopped suddenly.
Silence fell upon the streets once more,
As the trees awaited the arrival of the next breeze.

[Jack of Hearts]

A personification of trees and wind, it seems. Liked the last line about the trees waiting the best.

As this reader has no real idea how to compose/advise poetry, he'll save that for those sharper minds prowling around this board.

Hope to see more from you, in any case.






J

[tailor STATELY]

I love the subject you've chosen.




On this afternoon

I stare ahead,
Watching the trees patronize the wind
As they let their leaves move along with it
But not releasing their firm grip on the soil beneath.
The trees laugh a sound of coarse sand,
rustling as they are tickled,
And the wind, seeming to have noticed
his futile efforts to carry the trees
stopped suddenly.
Silence fell upon the streets once more,
As the trees awaited the arrival of the next breeze.

A minor problem with tenses and tone.

Please allow me to offer an edit for the purpose of giving you a few ideas:


The trees patronize the wind without mercy
as they allow their leaves to move
along with the breeze, not releasing their
firm grip on the soil beneath.
They laugh with a sound of coarse sand,
that rustles as if tickled by the winds audacity.
The wind, seeing his futile efforts to carry
off the trees dies down suddenly in frustration.
Silence falls, and the trees await the next
onslaught, the arrival of the next breeze.

Again I'm not rewriting your poem, this was a quick effort and lacks a little balance - just offering suggestions. Keep true to your vision. I hope that I might have an idea or two that might fit within your vision.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Lyn05]

Thank you both for commenting. And thank you tailor, for your kind sugestion and ideas! I'll try to improve it. :)

[hillwalker]

A worthy effort - and I enjoyed much of this.

The trees laugh a sound of coarse sand is quite memorable.

I'm not sure why you felt the need to insert yourself into the poem with that opening line.

And describing how the trees patronised the wind would be a better course than just stating the fact... and since you have attempted to show that anyway I'm not sure that telling us as well was necessary.

H

[IceM]

I indeed appreciate the topic choice. Sounds like something Frost would right about.

I enjoyed especially the closing lines, as they are suggestive of the timelessness of the battles you portray of wind and tree.

"Tickled" in line 6 sticks out to me because it doesn't match the environment. The wind is trying to overthrow the tree; and while it fails, it seems the wind would agitate the leaves more in this setting than "tickle" them. "Tickle" undermines the wind, as does the tree, but the playful connotations don't match the poem in context. Perhaps swap out that word with something more effective?

I don't have as much issue with including oneself in this poem. It seals the speaker as a witness of the timelessness of this struggle. And, without the first line, the succeeding three would be a fragment. Poetry allows for a writer to break standard conventions, but I don't think this author intended to.

Laughing like coarse sand caught me off-guard, only because I can't imagine what that sounds like. I honestly have yet to be many places in California where there is coarse sand. Even mountain sand is smooth...

Thanks for sharing! It was a pleasurable read.