She stands very tall, very strong,
Her feet planted firmly in the ground.
She could weather any storm,
She did not waver in the strongest wind.
Her beauty was subtle, ever changing,
Like the seasons, with the seasons.
Her arms stretched out to hold up one’s in need,
Her branches leafed out to shade others.
Now she’s old, wrinkled, knotted,
Her limbs are twisted with pain.
Oh Jehovah look, in your eyes she’s still standing,
Hopefully forever to remain.
Author Eileen Clark
Artist Eileen Clark
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Author:
Eileen Clark (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 12th, 2023 13:01
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments3
I've 'liked' this, not of course because of someone being afflicted and in pain though! (your self-portrait).
I've seen a tree like that one in your pic. Some more branches on it, but quite a famous tree over 400 years old. it has similar markings on it and has a guard-rail around it too.
It's behind some other trees in a tree-lined Avenue here in the UK. You over 400?!
lol, though I am 83. I painted it from a couple of pictures of dead trees and added much of my own feelings to it.
Lovely poem, gutsy painting! As Oliver Twist was wont to plead, More please...
Hello, how are you today? Thank you, I'll do what I Can. 🙂
Awesome metaphor Eileen.
Good day,, thank you and best regards.
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