The Character of Trees
There is a sadness in the Birch
In Autumn with the fall of leaves.
So silently, so no one hears
She sheds her golden tears.
There is a steadfastness in Oak,
It spreads its giant lofty limbs
In widening arcs for all to see;
A venerable mighty tree.
There is a softness in the Larch
Its feathery leaves cascading down
In waterfalls towards the ground;
Small fir-cones scattered all around.
There is a proudness in the Plane.
This city dweller stands aloof,
Cheats pollution with pealing bark
In roadside verge or formal park.
There is a beauty in the Beech;
It has the greenest leaves in Spring,
So small and delicate and bright,
Unfurling in the early light.
Eternal hope is in the Yew
Immortal in the cemetery,
Transcending death, it speaks of life
For souls who leave this world of strife.
William Messent's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Character of Trees by William Messent )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(1923 - 1998)
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