White Pine…A Poem.

There is a favorite spot of mine where I like to sit right at the end of my walking path.  There are many red pine and white pine trees in that area.  But there is one by itself right on the rock by the river.  Though the poem mentions eagles nesting in such white pine, none nest in this one yet, but white pine is a favorite of eagles because of how tall these trees are.  While looking at that tree today I wrote down this little poem.


There it stands, the mighty pine,

Tall and straight, looking so fine.

It stands alone by the shore,

Where it has plentiful store.

It grows tall, while anchored strong,

And here it’s life will be long.

The eagle nests in such tree,

Or sometimes rests happily.

Through the cold and winter storm,

Or summer sun when it’s warm,

And none comes along it’s way,

There it stands alone each day.

© 2019 Steve McLeod.



32 Comments on “White Pine…A Poem.

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