Behind the Lone Tree

Note to readers: Ekphrasic poetry is a writer's interpretation and response to a piece of any kind of art work. I could show the art work chosen for this poem, but it is my intent to create my own story version of the particular piece to stand alone without the illustration, so that the reader can draw on his/her own visual imagination from the writing.The art piece (an image shot by a photographer friend of mine) is simply my muse.This kind of exercise had proven to be a great lesson in both the art and literature classes I used to teach.
The following are two different versions of one art image.

                   "Behind the Lone Tree"

Sadness may impart this stone dwelling of loneliness or grief,
much as witnessing its bare tree with a single leaf.
An observer could imagine infinite possibilities
of tales to be told about any of these.

A temperate glow behind a bolted portal,
a cavernous room utters bizarre and dismal.
Offending smells hiss and gurgle; a conjurer must begin,
as magick knows no finish that dwells within.
Stone walls cannot trap wizards and their mystery;
nor a priest, shaman, shape-shifter. Not any sorcery.
So a tale to be told after all, as looks may deceive,
not sadness, but clever madness lurks behind this lone tree.



Another version of the same art image:

Sad thoughts of an old stone dwelling; occupied within was surely settled with grief.
Same as much, witnessing its only tree; skinny and bare, except for a single leaf.
An observer could conjure imaginations of infinite possibilities.
Terrific tales could be told about any of these.

On this dark, cold, and dreary late Autumn night,
a weary traveler began his trek by a suggestion of moonlight.
Lo! A glowing spot was spied through the naked forest; a beacon, he did pray.
Evidence of hope was kindled, as a lit portal seemingly shone for his way.
A shivering soul, needing bread and rest, determined an unsettling reason.
Urged to continue his fervent endeavor, Traveler trekked forward in a bitter season.
At last, a clearing, a stone house and its one bare tree was cautiously approached.
A weak knock was heard by two inside; one tall aged, and the other arched.
Elders they were, Master and Mistress, welcomed Traveler in earnest.
Regarding the small cozy chamber, warm, and modest,
the weary one felt encouraged to accept gracious hospitality.
Not sadness, but gladness, was found inside a stone dwelling behind this lone tree.