Photos & text by Barb Jenks Triffon
Trees by Joyce Kilmer was one of my favorite childhood poems. Not because it was the best poem ever written, but because it was short and I actually understood it.
“I think that I shall never see.
A poem as lovely as a tree…”
Back in the day, my classmates and I were required to recite this poem in English class and expected to sing it in music class. While I can’t exactly remember why we received a double dose of Trees, its rhyming verse, sing-songy beat and personification of a tree made the poem a fun and easy assignment for me.
Not so much for my classmates, however, who rolled their eyes at the poem’s simplicity, snickered at the words “breast” and “bosom” featured within its stanzas (which seriously was sort of funny) and brutally poked fun (as only the merciless, stealth precision of a 6th grader can do) at the male poet’s female name - Joyce. Ugh.
While this lovely little poem had a ton of stumbling blocks for me and my pubescent-age friends, I somehow managed to dreamily gaze out a classroom window and imagine myself sitting under the leafy tree the poet had described. (In a poof - I was gone.)
Not so much for my classmates, however, who rolled their eyes at the poem’s simplicity, snickered at the words “breast” and “bosom” featured within its stanzas (which seriously was sort of funny) and brutally poked fun (as only the merciless, stealth precision of a 6th grader can do) at the male poet’s female name - Joyce. Ugh.
While this lovely little poem had a ton of stumbling blocks for me and my pubescent-age friends, I somehow managed to dreamily gaze out a classroom window and imagine myself sitting under the leafy tree the poet had described. (In a poof - I was gone.)
Looking back, it seems like trees have always been an important living and breathing part of my life.
When I was a preschooler, three gigantic Cottonwood Trees in my yard marked the farthest edge of my young world and provided an exciting destination for me and my friends. About those magical days - it's safe to say there was no end to the epic adventures we created together.
When I was a preschooler, three gigantic Cottonwood Trees in my yard marked the farthest edge of my young world and provided an exciting destination for me and my friends. About those magical days - it's safe to say there was no end to the epic adventures we created together.
"Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did. And the tree was happy." ~ Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree
The fluffy white seed pods these giant trees released every summer not only covered my yard with a snow-like white cotton, but also our neighbors’ yards for as far as my little self could see. Sometimes, I’d actually burrow under these big piles of puffy softness and completely disappear. Again, just like that – poof & gone.
But that was a long time ago, a forgotten childhood game and memory until years later when my preschool-age daughter experienced her own tree magic.
While playing under a flowering Crabapple Tree in our backyard, she excitedly announced it was snowing and began throwing snowballs of delicate pink petals into the air.
Indeed it was a Snowy Day in May. Thousands of falling flowers had covered her and the ground with a fragrant blanket of pink wonder - much like the cotton puffs that had covered me years earlier.
And as I quietly admired the beautiful tree on that warm spring day, there it was again >> the beginning of Joyce Kilmer’s poem playing over and over in my head.
Indeed it was a Snowy Day in May. Thousands of falling flowers had covered her and the ground with a fragrant blanket of pink wonder - much like the cotton puffs that had covered me years earlier.
And as I quietly admired the beautiful tree on that warm spring day, there it was again >> the beginning of Joyce Kilmer’s poem playing over and over in my head.
“I think that I shall never see, A poem as lovely as a tree.”
Fast forward another couple decades: Trees remain my inspiration, refuge and source of childlike magic every season of the year.
Meet Some Inspiring Jeffrey Woods Trees
Spring: "Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems."
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
Summer: "For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver." ~ Martin Luther
Fall: "Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?" ~ Walt Whitman
Winter: "I couldn't live where there were no trees, something vital in me would starve." ~ L.M. Montgomery, Anne's House of Dreams "
More Jeffrey Woods Tree Magic
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Coming Soon: Spring
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Coming Soon: Spring
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