So many have already read this poem; I am so pleased. Today his granddaughter, Anna Rose Brewer, said she especially loves it, because Ben compared her to a Sycamore tree. He always called her "the rose!"
SYCAMORE SONNET
SYCAMORE SONNET
Sycamore stands tall within the wood
And fetches focus as we turn our eye
In hope of finding cause to lift our mood
From common place as we go passing by.
So stately there inside the scruff her presence,
Upright, clean, eschewing to partake
Of gnarly bark as hue of lesser essence
Sycamore lives life for ideal's sake:
Rejecting nature's notion of a tree.
To all her kind she rises tall to say
With her unfailing great humility
That all can join pursuit of higher way.
Sycamore breathes freshness into air,
Inspiring us each time we see her there.
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I knew that my husband's favorite tree was the Sycamore; but I only found this sonnet two days ago. Now I share it with you.
love, annie in memphis
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