A one hundred words for Friday Fictioneers
You’re sheltering me from the spring rain again. I love sitting here.
In summer, you shade me from the sun. I picnic here don’t I?
As a kid, I climbed you. I fell once and broke my arm, remember?
My first love and I carved our initials in your bark. Look, it’s still there.
In autumn, you’ll roll out a golden carpet and in winter you’ll stand naked and proud you old show off!
But unlike me you’ll be reborn.
You were there for those before me; you’ll be there for those that follow.
But today it’s me you shelter.
OK, so it's a picture of a bush, not a tree. Let's call it artistic license!
A very visual piece! :-)
ReplyDeleteDear Keith,
ReplyDeleteYou need not apologize for what you saw. Who cares if the picture's a bush? We're all about artistic license here. I used it as a cotton plant and I know for certain it's not that.
Lovely story.
Shalom,
Rochelle
The tree.. no wonder the strong connection to family.. it could be a metaphor that extend beyond the obvious...
ReplyDeleteI love your special place. Wish I had one when I was a child. Maybe I had but forgotten.
ReplyDeleteLily
I like it. And for all I could tell, those leaves are from a tree. :) Lovely piece.
ReplyDeleteI like the artistic license :) and the rest, too.
ReplyDeleteI like the artistic license :) and the rest, too.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of The Giving Tree. Good work
ReplyDeleteYou described it so well; I was thinking big tree with lots of branches for shade. I too want to sit under it.
ReplyDeleteNicely done!
betty
Shrubs can grow quite tall and do all you suggest in your piece, which I loved. :)
ReplyDeleteA memory tree - love it.
ReplyDeletei like the sentiments expressed in this story. it leaves me with a great feeling.
ReplyDeleteArtistic license is fine when the story is. ;) Tay
ReplyDeleteIt reminds me of a weeping willow that once graced my grandmother's property. Although I didn't climb or carve, it sheltered me and my inventive imagination.
ReplyDeleteThroughly enjoyed the imagery.
Trees teach us about time, and how our own perception isn't all that is there. A beautiful story, I love it.
ReplyDelete