Liquid Amber Dreams

Liquid Amber Dreams
Liquid Amber Dreams

Pale bows spread like open arms
upon a lush green mound,
as light trickles through a sea
of jagged leaves
fluttering in a tepid breeze
upon a summer’s day
light dancing on the ground.

Each leaf so precisely green,
a semi-translucent dream
of ever thinning veins,
till finest left for eyes unseen,
just a waxy texture of burgeoning life,
a thousand fold atop yearning,
bony fingers.

On this dappled green mound,
where grasses thatched and tightly woven,
the Liquid Amber stands her ground,
flourishing, and for a lad as I a perfect climb,
perched upon its upper spying crown,
to see the world below,
or from the crows nest a pirate scenario.

Surrounding, beds of white daisies,
yellow eyes so rich in gold
bent toward the sun,
like soldiers at attention they run
in beds amid the terraces
meandering down to a home I know,
where sustenance is a given.

That old Liquid Amber
is every perch in dreams conspired,
of pirates, soldiers and buccaneers,
a staircase of bows, escape and stealth,
a covert operation avowed,
as monsters wander the plains below,
seeking prey and bloody kills.

So full this tree, this monumental life,
spread so vastly to shade my kingdom,
and a lad’s escape into fantasy worlds,
as kids do, in the richness of their view,
as life changes, turns and twists,
that Liquid Amber still exists,
its stoic stance a wonder.

How I miss that giant,
its changing leaves and seasons worth
on show in glorious hues,
colors of my childhood, an only child, a dog
and that old Liquid Amber,
those images I’ll never lose,
ingrained in a man’s memory.

Tony DeLorger © 2018

Tony DeLorger
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Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for, Google+, videos on YouTube and book sales on website, Amazon and

3 thoughts on “Liquid Amber Dreams

  • July 4, 2018 at 12:49 AM

    Oh the joy of precious childhood memories! Climbing trees is one of my favorite memories. It is a whole different world up there where imagination turns a child into anything or anyone. My favorite tree was a majestic Oak, on a high hill above our farm. Thank you for bringing back precious memories when I was an Eagle, or a faerie, or a princess on her sailing ship. Lovely poem, Tony.

  • March 24, 2019 at 12:59 AM

    A lovely poem with beautiful images


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