Preamble: My notes indicate that on this evening, following some joyous laughter, we challenged each other to
bastardize tribute the great poem “Trees” by Joyce Kilmer. Here’s my attempt.
It would be too obvious to compare you to a flower,
Though to me, you are as beautiful and sweet.
It would be too simple to compare you to a starry sky,
Though you fill me with as much wonder.
It would be too ordinary to compare you to diamonds and gold,
Though in my eyes, you outshine their value.
It would be too lighthearted to compare you to the sun,
Though your presence fills me with greater warmth.
It would be too effortless to compare you to a sonnet,
Though you pull the most loving words from my heart.
It would be too unjust to compare you to anything I know,
Though to me, you are as glorious as all creation.
The only comparison acceptable to me is to compare you
Originally written Nov 3, 1997
From my Madrid files on the Pub Storytellers nights. Where an eclectic group of expats, troubadours, and assorted, sodden wordsmiths gathered twice a week to share a few pints, tell many tall tales, and lessen our loneliness at our favorite Irish Pub in Madrid, Spain, back in 1997-98. I kept my scribbles from these nights and the poems that grew out of the stories I told. This is the first time I’ve ever published these. I hope you enjoy them.