My Poetree

This notion sprouted long ago

It started as a lark

About a tree, my Poet-tree

With meter in its bark

It stands alone, but made to last

Surviving every storm

Despite which subject I may choose

The trunk supports the form

My Poet-tree’s a help to me

A gift to help me write

Addressing where my shadows loom

‘Til dark gives way to light

Each leaf’s a topic for a tale

Depending on my mood

Each branch its own poetic style

Some edgy, some subdued

The couplet branches hanging low

Are easiest to reach

The quatrains that are formed above

Are easier to teach

You’ll even see some limericks

The higher up I climb

Above them live the sonnet limbs

In case I want to rhyme

I sometimes see a free-verse branch

Get rooted with an ode

Although they’re not for everyone

I’ll love the way it flowed

So this is where I’ll usually come

To get myself on track

Whenever I show Poet-tree love

My Poet-tree gives some back