Oh wonders of Novembers view
Trees stripped bare I thought of you
As forked trees caught my eyes
A bare bum reflected should I pry
Its trunk seemed to be a figure true
Two branches reaching for the blue
I had to smile here’s the reason why
An artist his skill had to apply.
Someone in their brightest hour
Painted a pair of knickers there
Now I cannot look at a tree
Bared in its winter coat for me
As all now that me, perverted, can see
Asses and legs pointing up, no tree.
Autumns joy in colour’s abounding
Now I wander around just smiling.
Comments
Hi Ian
That artist should ply his trade world wide as there are too many frowning faces around lol......stan
Stan
was a spate of painting these things on trees and they made people smile.
When I was in Aussie a couple of years ago in the street we were in, someone had painted their wheelie bins with lovely flowers, and the tree outside also had a great lot of flowers on the trunk, it brightened the area up a little.
Thanks for your visit, and I hope all is well with you there,
Yours Ian..
Ian,
This sweet little poem reminds me of the tree shaping artist Peter Cook. You should look up his work online! He has formed trees in living chairs, little people, all kinds of fun and beautiful things.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tree_shaping
Good luck with the contest,
Kelsey
Kelsey
We had a piece on Tele a few years ago where the trend was to paint knickers and pants on trees.
Just couldn't resist the chance to have a laugh,
You take care out there, love from us here, Ian xx
r u encashing on erotica
A bare bum reflected...
I had to abandon mine
go read the other one
you would have missed a glass of wine
so don't whine
good luck for the cruise
hope you don't suffer
any
heart scratching bruise
lolololu
style lovedlulu
Loved
Just a fun poem as I remembered that someone had painted Pants on a few trees a few years back.
I suppose if you paint the gum trees that are that lovely pink colour realism will find a notch lol
Yours Ian..
this site lacks
a place to save drafts
the information as to how many have glossed ur poetry like this one
sad ...some guys do worse than me... but jess only pierces me
ignores many
well no one here hears
you and me
will continue with glee
u with glue
may be
did u read my tees poem read by more than 800
u may
Ian I say
Loved
If you write a poem and need to edit it at a short later date just stream it and then unpublish it ASAP it will be there for you to sort out for quite a while..
If this is any help in your storage problem, or just ask someone to help I am sure there are areas you can store your works,
Yours Ian..
this is not the answer.. I compose two or three poems off my
cuff
as per 24 hour rule
I can post one only
what do do with the other two
if I Blog it
jess curses me
wanky you!
NO ONE WILL MISS U
Dear Sparrow, you are losing your feathers,
the rub of your bones are pronounced.
throw off the stones that noose your neck
and have your pecker bounced.
a-p-o-l-o-g-i-e-s.
666
Gunnar
If this is a comment then you best stick to something else use Gorilla glue it is good for sticking, my feathers never move now.
I have been here about ten years now and if comments have sunk to this level then we best give up.
One Sparrow that can spit snakes if need be.
Now read the write and right the comment, it is a great pity we cant reject any comments that have nothing to do with the write. 666 get your complete bar code sorted before the end times..
Yours, Yenti..
young sparrow...
...my comments are directed at your verse. your naked trees need redressing. they would be much improved by a little stuffing and a stitch here and there, that's the gist of it. i were being poetic! lighten up, le moineau! x
Gunnar
Great to hear from you again after all this time, even Kelsey knew who it was.
While you are here and I hope fore a long time it is OK with me young frog, but are you coming back and commenting as you should do or do we have a good old abuse and arguments run ???
Thanks for the explanation of the comment, the contest was about November trees lol..
Take care out there. Yours The tortured Sparrow xx