old oak tree
standin' tall.
limbs bare
after the Fall.
stretching towards
the day's gray sky.
seem ta'be
Screaming...
"Why?" "Why?" "Why?"
have You left me
ta' Die?
but, in the Spring,
and the Green Springs bring,
once more
the old oak tree
will Sing.
for now though,
the Day is Gray
and the leaves
fave fallen away.
i'm ready for Spring.
ready for the Spring Thing.
so's the old oak tree.
ready ta' be.
ready ta' see
the Blue Spring Sky.
ready
not ta' Scream "Why?".
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Reviews of "The Old Oak Tree"
Reviewed by Oisín Breen (Reader)
Reviewed on February 19, 2003
yes i love oak trees too :)
Reviewed by Tien Avielle (Reader)
Reviewed on February 19, 2003
I've always been a tree-lover (-: And this poem has special meaning, for I planted an oak as a "memory tree" - it is a young thing of 4 years...just a bare twig now, dreaming of leaves and a warm breeze, like me! Thanks for this !
Ahhh Fall my favorite time of year.. How I miss it.. and then to see the first spring of grass after a long winter.. You brought this all back to me.. Wonderful write!
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