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 Category:  Commentary and Philosophy Poetry
  Posted: January 21, 2016      Views: 187

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Yep. I'm old, impatient and pretty well set in my ways. I love traditional poetry which rhymes and has a distinct and constant metre. I was raised on a diet of Kipling and Coleridge, Masefield and Browning and sundry other poets of the old sc - more...

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This work has reached the exceptional level
A story of Pride and a Fall in rhyming couplets
"The Arrogant Tree" by rhymelord

In the magical forest where fairy folk dwell,
(Though there's lots of plain people who live there as well)
A story is told of what came known to be --
As the terrible tale of the arrogant tree.

The tree was a beauty, of that there's no doubt
And it kept all its leaves when the summer was out.
It boasted, "My green leaves are fit for a queen,
For nothing is greener than my greeny green"

The maple, the chestnut,  the birch tree, the oak,
The plane tree, the ashes  and such like tree folk,  
Who all lose their leaves when the winter appears,
Had suffered this boasting for too many years.

'til one day in winter, a terrible storm
Blew down from the hills where the cyclones are born.
The trees with no leaves simply let it blow through,
But that's what the boastful green tree wouldn't do.

“I'll not stand here naked,” she cried to the world,
“I'll not live my life with my clothing unfurled.
I'll close up my leaves so they're just like a wall.
Whatever wind blows, I shall always stand tall.”

So thick were her leaves they were just like a sail,
But sails are for boats which can run 'fore the gale
And the arrogant tree could not move from her berth,
For her roots were sunk deep in the unyielding earth.

The earth that had nourished her, made her grow tall,
Would now be the cause of her terrible fall.
While her top bent right over, her roots were held tight
And she couldn’t stand up again, try though she might.

But, the wind kept on pushing and pushing still more
And she found that its strength was too great for her core.
With a scream, like an animal suffering pain,
Her trunk broke in two with the terrible strain.

The head dress of green, that she'd worn as a crown,
Now lay in a tangled mess over the ground.
The tree, who believed she would live ever more,
Was now just a log on the green forest floor.

And from this, my children, just what have you learned?
Are people like trees where their pride is concerned?
Is beauty worth all that it's cracked up to be?
Before you reply, just remember the tree.

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