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I just talked to an old ent
whose limbs were all twisted and bent
he, too, had old nobby knees
which creaked in the winter breeze.

He told me of forests past
how they lived and how they passed.
The telling brought sap to his eyes
(that ents cried was a surprise)

He talked of giant fairy rings
he talked of oh so many things.
But mostly he talked about trees
his voice was low, almost a tease.

He told tales of ancient oaks
now gone and hauled off by ox yokes.
He spoke of them like long lost friends
who had one day reached their ends.

Then he talked of chestnut trees
all killed off by some disease
brought here from some far off shore.
They'll not be seen any more.

Next he spoke of a beechnut on a bluff
whose bark was smooth and white and tough.
He smiled recalling how one day
lovers left their names then went their way.

His gruff voice just went on and on
departing tales of those both here and gone
until the sun sank toward the west.
Then he said "Come back, I'll tell the rest."

I then left but then as things go
life intruded and years would flow.
When I Did return at last
there was no longer a forest ,vast.

The shepherd left when his flock fell
replaced by industrial pine hell.
That ent will never come back here.
I'll never more his tales hear.....

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


Hello, Scribbler,
What a wonderful poem! I feel the energy and love for the forests similar to J.R.R.Tolkein, Shel Silverstein, and Dr. Seuss - all in one! I'm sure Mother Earth gives a gentle bow, too.
Thank you!

you enjoyed this

author comment

suggestion All were killed off by disease
his smile?
his tales to hear ( perhaps)
love the concept of this poem
so much is canging and way to fast

Let your mercy spill on all those
burning hearts in hell( L.Cohen)

I made a few changes.

author comment

I thing you wanted
He smile(d) recalling....

Last stanza, last line ,last word...hear? or is it pun of words?
A wonderful read as usual


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me

Me and those damned typos .....good thing I have friends to alert me to them

author comment

I don't usually write this form of rhyme [I call it two-by two style], as it becomes hard to keep it up without having to stretch for rhyming words in sentences that make sense. Nice job and most certainly a great subject. I love trees too and think of them as being a slower form of life that we should all appreciate. I have some pretty old trees in my neighborhood and yard and love watching them have generations of wildlife in their branches. Nice job in bringing them to us in this work. Oh, instead of [departing], I would suggest [telling, reciting, etc.] ~ Geezer.

Honest critique and comments shouldn't hurt.
It's why we are here, to get better at our craft.

This is also a departure from my usual abab pattern. Ever since Tolkien introduced me to ents they have played around in my mind lol. I'll give your suggestion a bit of thought....stan

author comment
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