The apple blossoms soon will bloom
The lilac fragrance fill my room
Leaf buds will open on large trees
Gardeners will fall upon their knees
Bring forth your green, oh maple grand
Welcome the spring across the land
Whisper to me through rustling leaf
And I shall sigh with great relief
Bring back your shelter, copper beech
With arms that dare to heaven reach
Bring back your green leaves, walnut friend
And cleanse the air, our bodies mend
Give us your shade, oh mighty beings
Cover our spaces with your wings
Shade so the grass becomes a bed
Shade for the place where lies our dead
Shade for the robin, perched on limb
Nest for the bugs that pester him
For trees are gifts to creatures all
From those who walk to those who crawl.
~~
Dedicated to all my blogger friends.
Cynthia Reyes 
Lovely poem, Cynthia! 🙂 Delightful post for your blogger friends, thank you. 🙂 Best wishes, Iris
You are welcome, Iris. And thank you too. For this, and for the beautiful, thoughtful poetry on your blog.
Thank you, Cynthia. It’s my pleasure to share! 🙂
Cynthia, you’re a TREE-HUGGER:0)))! What a lovely poem and a lovely yard! And that little pine in the background of the apple tree looks almost artificial it’s so perfectly formed.
It’s finally almost planting time!
I plead guilty, Your Honour. A tree-hugger is wot I yam.
That little pine, by the way, belongs to my friends Sandra and David, as does the apple tree in that particular shot. Isn’t it a sweetie?
Your yard and all those trees look inviting, Cynthia. I love Spring and the lilacs, cherry blossoms and dogwood trees that bloom during it. Your poem reminds me it’ll happen soon.
Yes, indeed. Today was a warm day and we sat on the verandah, and the leaves on the maple nearby actually unfurled as we sat there. One minute, it seemed like they were just leaf buds; the next minute: leaves! Tender, “first green” leaves.
Seeing the leaves unfurl sounds like a nice way to spend a warm afternoon.
Thank you, Cynthia! Lovely poem. Your place is beautiful!
Thank you. A few of the pictures are of other people’s trees, which I fell in love with.
Lovely ode to trees and all the nuts that spring forth! That is one huge tree you are hugging Cynthia. Is it in your yard?
In praise of trees and hugging! 🙂
That one is in someone else’s front yard. Hugging it was very difficult because I could not get my injured arm to go up any higher, and had to twist my body to hug the tree! But, as the French say: “je ne regrette rien!” It was a great tree to try to hug.
Cynthia, a good friend to us, and a good friend to trees. Praise be!
Ah, my friend. Thank you for these kind words.Sorry I’ve been moving so slowly with everything these days.
Have you noticed how slowly the trees move, yet they are beautiful? 😉
Absolutely gorgeous, Cynthia! Thank you!
Hey Sheryl: You are welcome. And thanks.
A beautiful tribute! Thank you!
Thank you, and you are welcome!
Hey Cynthia .. lovely words. I would give that tree a big hug too!
Hey Julie: Next time I give a tree a lop-sided hug, I’ll give a second one on your behalf. You have a great love for growing things, so I’m not surprised you’d give that tree a hug.
I do have a great love to growing things. Thank you … big smiles from me!
Cynthia, what a lovely poem, I did not know you wrote poetry too, I really enjoyed your thoughts. The photo of you hugging the tree outside of your lovely home made me smile too, the tree is huge!
Hey, Julie: As Beth notes, I’m a tree-hugger! Glad it made you smile, that photo.
La nature nous restaure et est bienveillante avec nous, le printemps est souvent la saison qui nous réconcilie avec nous même 🙂
Merci, Christiane. Bien dit!
Here, Spring keeps dangling a naked leg then putting on her winter clothes again! ❄️🌱
I love that metaphor of spring dangling a naked leg. Such a fabulous way with words, you have.
☺️
😊
Spring is such a tease! Was that a maple you were hugging ? If it was its much bigger than I imagined! 😄
A massive maple.
I imagined them to be like Birch 😀
Ah. They can live for hundreds of years and some are astonishingly large. I’m one of those idiots that will ask “Stop the car! A humongous maple!” and go talk to these giant trees. There’s no accounting for sense….
I particularly like the last line, “From those who walk and those who crawl” and “Shade for the place where lies our dead.” Great ode to great beings.
Thank you, Diane. I appreciate your comment.
Perfectly written!! I love reading and connecting with people, who like me, feel one and alive with the earth! While I see and feel all there is in nature, you so eloquently are able to put words to the feelings!
Anyone who read your recent post about your horse would know that you are well able to put words to the feelings. Well done.
You are way to kind but thank you! By the way love the tree hugging picture!!
You do write so well, Cynthia! Your poem is full of hope and I do love a hopeful poem. I find trees amazing – so much stored energy in such tiny seeds. Thank-you for the dedication ❤
Thank you for this, Clare. And you are most welcome.
My pleasure as always.
It won’t be long now. I saw some new leaves yesterday!
Me too, today!
This captures a moment of spring, and anticipation, so well!
Thank you, Kerry. How goes the weaving/looming?
Pretty well, thanks! I have one project right now that I’m not loving but I am learning from it. Thanks for asking!
I guess that’s a fair trade. You learn from it. I hope we will see the results when completed.
I’m in love with this post Cynthia – simply beautiful writing. Spring newness abounds and with many rebirths.
It does indeed. Thank you, Mary.
Oh that is so poignant and so beautifully written Cynthia! Trees play such an important role in all our lives. In my garden alone I have blossom trees planted to mark the passing of my cats, with petals which fall upon the ground where they lie. I have a crab apple tree which I sit under for welcome shade and a once tiny tree which I took from my last business which now grows and thrives, offering me continuity and hope.
It is as if the trees are the elder statesmen of the garden, growing in wisdom with the years. You looked tiny against that big tree you were hugging! I really love that picture and I have never hugged a tree! Well, what am I waiting for?! 🙂
What a wonderful reply, Karen. Thank you. I keep re-reading it. I like the idea of our mature trees being the elder statesmen of the garden. And yes! Go hug a tree, girl! If I, with one good working arm, can ambitiously hug a huge tree, so can you. Promise?
I promise. I am going to go to sleep now thinking of which tree to choose and the kind of hug it will be. I am wondering what it will feel like and what I will be able to intuit from the experience. Watch this space!
I will!
Thank you from here, where the willows have their spring green on, other trees are budding, the geese are grazing and nesting and this evening the insect eating birds were swooping over the water. Spring makes me smile, and so does your verse. Wishing you many more wonderful trees to hug!
@”Dedicated to all my blogger friends.” – merci! thanx a bunch of your favourite flowers, Cynthia! ❤ lots of inspiration, my very best and have a positive week! cheers, Mélanie – another tree hugger… 🙂
Love that big tree!
Me too. It’s awe-inducing to see a tree so huge.
Cynthia, what a wonderful ode to trees. I love the big one you hugged. They are the gentle giants of the best gardens. We bought our present home largely (pun intended) because of the trees.
Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
Thanks, Wendy. Are there any pix of your trees on your blog anywhere? If so, please send me the link!
Cynthia, here’s a post from three years ago about our trees and why we fell in love with our present home. ❤
https://greenlightlady.wordpress.com/2012/07/11/trees-pleasing-to-the-eye/
thank you for sharing your poem-beautiful..+ as always you know how to tug at our hearts and souls!.
I love your hug for your tree-much larger than your arms:-)…I need to go out and hug my old gal, but I feel I won’t be able to give her a total hug for she is much larger than my outstretched arms!! We have some great old trees in our gardens-way before our time:-)
Hey Robbie: That shouldn’t stop you. A half or quarter hug will do! (smile) I was very ambitious with one good arm and one crooked one — and I still didn’t get my arms even half-way around that giant tree. I’m glad you have some great old trees. They are awe-inspiring, aren’t they? They remind me of how small we humans are, how short our lifespan set in the context of natural time.
amen to that! I have two old ones on my property- a Silver Maple ( 80 years plus) and a large Pin Oak over our bedroom. I can’t hug her either that is all that fits on our lot:-) But I have been adding tons of dwarf fruit trees, I can squeeze those little ones in here and there!
Years ago we had a strong storm E something) go through here and took out all the elderly trees. Pulled them from the roots! We were down for a week and everyone was digging out but my “old Gal) in back holds the hill she is the last one standing. My neighbors all lost their trees:-( I admire her so much for her ability to stand tall and not give up when she is faced with a challenge!
What a beautiful poem! I love trees, too. We have several, and I am so thankful for that.
Blessings,
Theresa
Such a privilege to have trees around us, eh? Glad you have several, Theresa.
Give that tree a hug for me, too!!! (Great pics!!!)
OK if I hug another tree on your behalf, Lori? That one is not on our property, but we have many here!
Lovely poem! Thanks for dedicating it to all your blogger friends 🙂 The photo of you hugging the giant tree is too adorable!
Thank you, Chasidy. I thought you’d like that photo, and you did!
🙂 Great and creative minds think alike!
You see when I stop by I’m making up for lost time! 🙂 Love your poem, you tree-hugger, you! I cannot imagine life without trees. Even when I lived in the city, I was in places where there were trees. Thanks for this lovely tribute to them – they deserve accolades.
You do, you do! Have you hugged a tree lately?
I haven’t actually hugged one in quite some time, but I did spend some time talking to the 100′ blue spruce at the edge of my property as I cut its branches free from last year’s honeysuckle vine.