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‘Sap’-iosexual his was for girth not wit that bit of ‘Junk in the trunk’,
Luscious chunk of deciduous wood,
Pulling a leaf out of a fools scalp, He said, “Lettuce marry.’’,
“Wood you Maple take me as ‘your- lawnfully’ weeded hand...to prune and to mow, till dirt do us part ”
See, he seeded right...and soon they were joined in ‘holly’ ma‘tree’mony
Tree and man before Satyr, men, and trees;
3 ‘carrot’ ‘almond’ ring... Knots tied around girdles,
“Ouroboros” Knitting vows on dotted lines;
‘Fern’- in embers in old logbook”
“Together forever”.
They say, “It’s the things we do for love” Padre says, “It’s the thing we do for log.”
Poets say they can die for love “Can you die for log, Padre?”
“Probably in a poem”

Bouquet, Bouquet
Disconcerting!
Bride’s sister flung in air like a piece of clothing
“All you single ladies!”
Touché.
Row-mance.
Life is hard in a ‘corn-dorm’ Square ‘roots’ in round pegs
Tree, lumberjack at loggerheads
“She stepped tom-a‘toes’ ”...“Where did you po-ta‘toes’?”
“Onion” head... ‘mush’-room there...“If I ‘cashew.’!”
‘Fowl’ play.
Every inch of pain nailed to this coffin, layers of bruises concealed by lacquer finishing
Like lies foundation tries to makeup, ‘Stigma’ borne in ‘style’
Padre was a ‘nut’ case, a ‘thorn’ in the ‘stem’.
Nature’s call
Here, friends gather like dark clouds
Neither for Padre nor the tree he loved
They pay their last respect to this woman whose body now lay motionless like a log
Why didn’t she say something?...Why didn’t she run?