THE CRAB APPLE - A poem about a tree and me

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Glenn Logan
Member

since 2001-10-10

Posts 111
Virginia

0 posted 2001-10-30 02:46 PM

                     THE CRAB APPLE

                     The flowering white crab apple of my childhood
                     still grows there,
                     still surrounded by its garden,
                     although a house with a concrete slab sits
                     in the space where the tree and the garden
                     and a lawn with surrounding hedges once flourished.

                     But I can still show you the flowering butterfly bush,
                     still luring yellow-and-black swallowtail butterflies
                     to dance with the plain-jane white cabbage moths
                     between their
                     sips of nectar from
                     the bush's bobbing wands of tiny purple trumpets
                     loaded explosively with miniature pistils of fiery red.

                     And over here, in the cool damp shade along the
                     flagstones by the dripping faucet, smell the sweet
                     lilies of the valley,
                     surviving still with their delicate
                     stalks of tiny white bell-shaped flowers held
                     between jade green leaves curved like apple parers.

                     And over there, within that big ring of red bricks
                     surrounding the flowering crab apple,
                     see the fallen tulip petals,
                     mostly crimson and bright yellow,
                     scattered like satin dresses of careless young girls.

                     Then come with me; duck under the blossom-laden
                     branches so fragrant with white flowers, and climb up
                     with me to the fork in the trunk of the crab apple tree;
                     come,
                     climb with me
                     into the fork of the crab apple tree!


Author's Note: More poems by me can be found at the following personal websites:

                      http://www.poetrypages.com/pages/glennlogan
                      http://www.geocities.com/glennlogan/index.html
                      http://sites.netscape.net.gloganpoet

Robert A
Member

since 2001-10-29

Posts 174

1 posted 2001-10-30 03:00 PM

nice images, love those trees

Martie

Moderator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-09-21

Posts 28049
California

2 posted 2001-10-30 07:31 PM

Glenn--I have gone by my childhood home and seen the purple plum tree that graced the side yard..and it looks the same, though the house has been transformed...seems so strange. Thank you for reminding me. The place in your poem sounds lovely in many ways. Enjoyed your poem painting!

Titia Geertman
Member Ascendant

since 2001-05-07

Posts 5182
Netherlands

3 posted 2001-10-30 08:12 PM

A great memory of childhood, well written

Titia

A rose is a rose is a rose...I guess...
Feel free to use the pictures on my website. http://communities.msn.com/Titiasplace/

Nightshade

Member Patricius

since 2001-08-31

Posts 13962
just out of reach

4 posted 2001-10-30 08:16 PM

Glenn, very well done - enjoyed!! Chris

Life is not measured by breaths you take, but by moments that take your breath away.

Glenn Logan
Member

since 2001-10-10

Posts 111
Virginia

5 posted 2001-10-31 12:13 PM

Martie:

I thought you might find a chuckle in the fact that this is based on the garden of my home in Jersey City, N.J., which in fact was a lovely place, despite the fact that the images that words "Jersey City" are likely to evoke in most would be quite different.

Glenn Logan

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