blogtober

My Maple Tree | A Poem By 10 Year Old Me

The neatest thing happened to me today. I was going through my sentimental item box as I sometimes do when I’m in that nostalgic mood. And I came across this poem I had wrote for a school assignment when I was in the 3rd grade. As a kid, I would sit under this maple tree in our front yard & read books for hours on end, specifically the book, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Let me know if you’ve read those series. I figured this would be perfect to share during the season of Blogtober. Life is funny. I never thought I’d share this with the world. But I hope you like this blast from the past from the younger version of the writer you know today.

As I gaze out my window.

I admire this maple tree, grown from the ground.

Starting out as a little seed and now sky bound.

As the years have gone by, I too have changed,

Just as my maple tree

Growing both in stature and maturity.

Each year the seasons pass from winter

to spring and summer to fall.

My maple tree endures them all.

With changes in foliage from bare to green.

Then magnificent oranges and reds can be seen.

As a child I would sit beneath my maple tree.

It seems only a bit taller than me.

Its limbs were so fragile back then.

It took very little for them to bend.

It’s leaves I would rake when they fell to the ground.

The kids in the neighborhood would all come around.

To play in the leaves raked into a pile.

My maple tree would look down on us and smile.

When I got older I would sit beneath my maple tree.

And it seems so much bigger than me.

Its limbs were now sturdy and strong.

And I knew that I couldn’t go wrong,

If I decided to climb up inside and sit their awhile.

And again my maple tree would just look at me and smile.

Hope you enjoyed this fall themed poem from my past. See you tomorrow!

-B