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The Tree
You're a prince of a tree of that there's no doubt,
There's no other like you for miles about.
You're great majestic branches reaching high,
Command respect from such as I.
You've always been known as the picnic tree,
A shaded spot, a windless lee,
I often wondered, if it was true?
That you enjoyed those picnics too.
As a climbing tree you were the measure,
Countless hours of endless pleasure.
You kept the children safe, as you were able,
And rocked them gently like a cradle.
Decked with their bright clothes you looked to me,
Like a decorated Christmas tree.
I often wondered, did you mind?
When all those children climbed.
You're a safe haven above other trees,
For countless birds and honeybees.
Your leaves and branches so welcoming,
A sanctuary for homecoming.
I often wondered, if you understood,
That you did so much good.
Young love grew beneath your branches,
A fertile ground for new romances.
That first kiss sown beneath you're boughs.
Would surely lead to happy vows.
I often wondered, did you cast a spell?
To make things turn out so well.
So often it was just you and me,
A motherless boy and his faithful tree.
I sometimes felt you alone understood,
When no other living being could.
I often wondered if you could see,
How much you really meant to me.
I've come back to see you after forty years,
Much success, happiness and some tears.
I still think of you, as my friend,
I'm sure I will, to the very end.
No need to wonder if you still care,
I see a new small boy sitting there. |
