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Wind &Tree inspired by Frost Wind and Windowsill

I happened upon an oak tree,
And an autumn breeze.
A friendship of wind and tree.
The breeze shakes the branches,
The leaves giving color to the wind.
Soulmate's these
Working in nature.
Oak tree, yellow and orange
Autumn breeze, cool and swift
Leafs rain from the heavens
Daylight peeking through.
As winter came to the valley
It froze the air.
The breeze became bitter,
The leaves turned brown
Winter tested their bond.
The oak tree became bare,
The autumn breeze blew away
Snow fell.
The winter wind blew harshly,
The old oak bended and bowed
The snow soon fell from the tree,
And air the was still.
When spring arrived
The oak bloomed anew.
Flowers took root,
And on one lonely day
A sweet spring wind came by.

No matter how cold winter may be the breeze always comes back to the tree.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Last few words: 
Frost has alway inspired me.
Editing stage: 


How this lovely meander through the seasons
gave the atmosphere its musical colouring,

"I happened upon an oak tree,
And an autumn breeze."........................we are left in the air, as this sentence didn't have an end, or conclusion that we could ignore, even i poetry one has to have some logic if language. Unless you wrote In and autumn breeze.

"The breeze shakes the branches,
The leafs giving color to the wind."

Perhaps logically again, the same sense in both lines would be...
The leaves give colour to the wind......?

I very much enjoyed this poem as I saw and felt every word of it,
knowing the images so well myself, love Ann.

Leafs = leaves.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Ann has already commented so well. I just wish to say that your poem does convey how well you connect with nature and the live act nature performs but view visualize...

raj (sublime_ocean)

You have God, I have trees, not as gods,
but something that grows and goes on
when i feel down, they still grow on,
and when they pass on are still as noble.

Love Ann

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

With purpose. An entire fall and winter in a small poem.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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