7 Leaves

7 Leaves short poem

Photo by Jocey K

The old tree grew in my grandfather’s compound
It used to be beautiful and fruitful all around
Birds always came down in swoops to surround
Nobody knows the type of tree or fruit anymore
It has no fruits anymore only the shoes children
used to throw at its fruits, hang from branches
and rests at it’s root
It has no sweet smell anymore only animal
excrement and insects gathered at the root
The tree has only seven leaves now and each
tells a story of glory
Let me tell how, back before my family had a plough
My grandfather’s, brother’s, mother’s, father planted the seedling
It took seven years, growing into a sapling
Young grandparents sat on its side straddling
On its branches grandparents were prattling
Stolen meat shared on its branches followed by
babbling and haggling
It has seen wars
Its leaves has traveled to other shores
It has seen peace
It has felt disease
Foggy misty mornings
Under its branches
Family members started the day by praying
discussed farming and gave each other warnings
Warm breezy afternoons
Under its branches family members sat on stools
Shared food with spoons and told stories
of robin hood
Cold still airy nights
Under its branches family members shared
food bites, mosquito bites and each others plights
Bright lights shine upon its leaves
Revealing shadows that seemed like thieves
Reveling love on top of trees like Adam and Eve
Romances bloomed and love lockets were
exchanged under its shadows until mornings
dawned
Family members kicked their buckets and went
to the great beyond
Funerals kicked off and no body looked at the
tree , not even for a second
An eternity, our longest lasting family member
although some parts are missing which we
dismembered for firewood
Encroaching modernity , our oldest fast passing
family member remained an interesting , lovely
resting place of wood
Seven leaves are all that is left of its crown
Some say they stand for the number of years
remaining
I say it will make a good painting
Some say they stand for the days of the week
I say they stand for those that made it weep
Seeing our family friend getting weak
Dropping no more leaves for us to sweep
The roots of the love of this tree and our family
go deep.

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Funkekeme Akposeye

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I am an easy going person who loves poetry and music,love making new friends and experiencing different cultures and I respect people's decisions and emotions as long as they respect mine am an african and i believe everything i can,i am yearning,learning and earning knowledge in search of peace and wisdom and when i write is when i feel alright.This poems and pages are dedicated to my family, friends, and anyone that appreciates life's joys. I hope these pages make you smile, reminisce, and perhaps shed a tear.
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6 Comments on "7 Leaves"

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Nadeem Qazilbash
Member

What a wonderful captivating story teller, transcending time. The tree as the mute spectator of generations gone by.

minakshi.balasubramaniam
Member

More than a prose/poem its a a wonderful account of what actually happens beneath, within and to a tree! lovely. Lovely..

Savi Mani
Member

The tree which once stood to its glory witnessing time witnessing generations is left with only seven leaves now, does it not represent us humans, we too become old like the tree…..having seen generation after generation……..it is so strange both the tree and the human have the same way to grow and same way to go……..wonderful thought provoking poem loved the line “The roots of the love of this tree and our family go deep.” wonderful poem written with so much emotions attached to it. dear @TheFlow Funkekeme Akposyeye

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