The King Tree a poem I recently wrote, when I attended my first ever writing workshop. Some things that happened at this workshop, I was the only male and I was the only one writing anything in the realm of fiction. For all of five minutes, I felt slightly uncomfortable, but the wonderful hosts and other writers made me feel right at home with their encouragement and their own works of art.
Here is the start of an epic poem I have been tossing around in my head for a couple of months now.
The King Tree by Stew Stunes
At the top one can see all the way to the west
But don’t look down for fear of the fall
Most of all, the king tree’s branches hold onto green far into the winter
Its roots grow beyond just this forest
No thicket can hide, no cloud can shield
The king tree can be seen all the way past the stream and field
You ask how can a tree be king when it isn’t even the tallest, nor the first or the most grand
The king tree became so, because when it grew it did not block the glow
It did not take all the water nor did it take too much from the soil
The king tree became so because it let the forest grow
If you have some equally cringe-worthy false starts or other such unpublishable works of art, I would love to feature it here with you.