The Poufle Tree

A legend, told many a century ago tells of the Poufle Tree,

amazing branches and leaves that would glow.

It stood proud and strong, glorious leaves it would grow.

No weather could damage it, summer, storm or snow.

Folklore say it whispers in the night,

the leaves become bigger, it’s roots thick and bright

as the moon envelopes it and it reaches up to the sky.

The insects chatter, cats call, babies cry.

Exactly how old it is, well, that’s a mystery

as it’s never been recorded in all of history

but if you sit near it, by day, silently,

the Poufle Tree whispers

”Come, talk to me.

Tell me your secrets, I’ll tell you mine,

I’m ancient, magical, an enigma and fine”.

By day the Poufle looks quite normal

with a deep-set bark and plenty of floral

but when the moon is out shining over the woods

people dance around it wearing elaborate cloaks, hoods.

Chanting, singing, all around,

laying their offerings on the ground.

”Oh Poufle, your most humble servants, we are here

delivering presents with grateful tears.

Please, grant us our powers, we beseech you, on our knees

for you are the Most High of Universal Trees,

with your incredible power which is held firm and true.

Oh great Poufle, we worship you”.

The tree begins to move, slowly at first

but then the great width of it began to burst

and the heavens opened up with dark lightening skies

as the people around it shielded their eyes.

The ground began to quiver and quake,

the entire woods started to shake

while the hooded ones continued to pray

as the tree turned orange, skies turned grey.

Poufle let out a thunderous roar

as it’s branches and roots began to soar

into the darkness of the night

flying up to the moon like a bewitched kite.

The worshippers continued their praise

as the Poufle began to stand and raise

and it’s enormous girth began to shudder

when the skies spewed lightening along with the thunder.

Their sacrificial offerings of blood-soaked men

were snatched up by Poufle, they offered it ten,

and when the horrors were over, Poufle had taken it’s fee,

I sat in front of it and it whispered to me…

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October 31, 2023

Ooooo … I’m scared! 

November 1, 2023

@ghostdancer Thank you! I’m writing a poetry book, hopefully to have it self-published by Blurb in December, and The Footsteps poem is also in there!

February 22, 2024

Wonderful! And a little chilling