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Pruning Trees

This has been on my mind for a while now, since I saw the tree outside my apartment undergo some major pruning. I had felt sad, but I guess there’s more to rejoice.

“What’s going on?” I cried, rushing out into the garden.

He had a ladder against a tree and was at the topmost rung, perched and holding a saw, gazing up into the leafy arms. On the ground lay several piles of leaf-sprouting branches.

He saw me standing arms akimbo below and waved down at me, yelling, “I’m pruning the trees!”

“But why? They looked so beautiful with their crowns of green,” I pouted. “Now they look all ugly and bare!” I looked at the stumps of nothing against the bright blue skies and felt upset all over again.

“I feel like the trees have wasted all their efforts growing themselves out.”

“Yeah I know; they were glorious weren’t they?”

He came down from the ladder and stood beside me, looking up at the stumps too. “But pruning has way more benefits that outweigh this temporary ugliness.”

“Well yeah… I suppose…”

He glanced over at me sulking and laughed.

“Well, pruning helps to remove deadwood that hampers trees from growing to their best potential, and also helps to shape them and redirect their growth.”

He leaned the saw gently against the tree, then continued, gazing kindly at me.

“When they grow better, and in the right directions, they become healthier. At the same time, risks from falling branches are reduced while yield or quality of flowers and fruits are increased.”

“Yeah… I suppose you are right,” I replied grudgingly.

“That’s what you can look forward to. But it will take some time.” He patted me on the shoulder and winked. “But I assure you, it will be a magnificent sight to behold.”

And so I wait, for that magnificence to unfold.

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Daily Prompt: Thwart

Sundays are meant
To be slow and sultry
Tousled thoughts and
Late-up sheets.

Unfortunately, I’m working.

Or is it? 🙂

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Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections

It must have begun with those diaries
Which I very diligently wrote
To preserve eventful memories
Of things I’d seen or spoke

Then one fateful day I penned
That commended page of description
That virgin masterpiece that gave
My spine a thrilling sensation

I guess I never forgot
That first taste of writer’s success
When it rekindled in later years of youth
There was no more turning back

I didn’t realise yet this was my gift
Until it was by chance
Someone needed a copywrite
And so my career begun

It did not start out easy
But I was happy just to write
To see the words form on each page
From all those thoughts inside

The more I wrote the deeper I loved
I guess I developed some knack
Till it’s now a delirious addiction
But I think I’m on the right track.

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