The Sycamore

To climb a sycamore of which I have three,

the trunk so long too high for me.

I would  get up if I were a bee

Or a squirrel, that, I can see.

But, oh… to sway up high

amongst the leaves

where I could  grieve

for lost innocence.

A place to shed

My silent tears

Allow them to fill

These ageing ears.

Without a  care,

I would climb

skinning  knees

One at a time.

High above

where no one


no one



No one


My thanks goes once more to Bernadette for her sharing at the senior salon

press salon to find more amazing blogs.

My poetry is light, short and hopefully gives a bite to read like a wrap or sandwich at lunch. QUESTION ALERT! What do you read in your break? Or don’t you? Answers please in the comments I’d love to read them in my lunch break ;)😇.

16 thoughts on “The Sycamore

  1. What an awesome Poem! I love trees. I think they are amazing, the way they cycle through the seasons and they live for hundreds of years. We could learn a lot from the trees. 🙂

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  2. Ellen, I lived in the woods behind my house when I was a child. Each of the neighborhood kids claimed different trees for their very own…and we would climb them and lean against the trunk the sun on our skin, the wind blowing our hair. I wanted to live in mine. In the yard of our current house, there is an immense long leaf pine, several wild cherries, and a cedar…none of which have I climbed…those days are gone for me now! But the trees still call to me. They sing of peace and the perspective found only in rooted wisdom. Loved your post! Jo

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  3. Hugging maybe just a smidge too far for me but we are so privileged to have a stream at the bottom of the garden with beautiful trees Beech Hazel and Sycamore to name a few.


  4. I remember going to those special places as a child. A place to lick my wounds and ponder the future. I like to read historical fiction when I get a break from reading for information.

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  5. Such an evocative poem, 👏🏻😊 While all hell breaks out around the adult world, it’s like taking a deep breath of fresh air to read this and think of carefree childhood days, building dens, climbing trees, endless sunny days (or so it always seems) …

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