Poetree.

I wrote this around a year ago. 

For the most-part my writing comes from deep seated emotion. Soon, I will write about a bog standard average day in the life of...but for now here's some heartbreak.

The Winged Spindle Tree

I was once the winged spindle tree,

My branches whispered of our love-story.

Leaves carried your name in the wind through the air,

Happiness endured in their veins to declare.

Too soon you forgot to understand, to celebrate;

The truth of the words you could once relate.

You became the woodchopper, prepared to kill

Where once you'd carved your message, at my will. 

Blossom showered down, hitting ground with no life;

The bough, my heart: Your axe, the knife.

I did not speak as you worked, did not weep as I fell

I'd always been here, living to tell.

I felt it, despite the fragility of its nature,

Every leaf spoke of it: to be yours, to be sure.

I landed, and there was a stillness in place

The noise and movement made room for my case.

You had never even heard me, never really listened

But now you understood, like dew it glistened:

You'd been my thoughts and my praise

Since you touched me, to these last days.

And as you stood, finished and ready to leave

There was nothing left here, no way to decieve.

It seems what was between us was clear for all but few

See the wind had been carrying my words away from you. 

Finally, with your eyes upon me, I lay undisguised,

I imagine it was then that you realised.