Saturday, May 3, 2014

Poem #16: The Oak

When I was just a child,
Each and every day I lived
Not giving two-pence for I had no
Two-pence I could give.

I picked apples and berries
and I ate them all for tea.
 I said, “One day, I will be fat.
But that’s all right with me.”

I went into the Woods one day
In crispy Autumn air,
In search of nothing, really,
Just to find out what was there.

I tripped over a rock which sent me
falling to the ground.
To see if I had hurt the rock,
I quickly turned around.

The rock said he was very well,
And so I ventured on:
Deeper into the Woods where shadows
Came, and then were gone.

I came across an old Oak Tree
And settled down to rest.
He moaned, “Tell me a story,”
I replied, “I’ll do my best.”

I told him all the tales I knew
From minstrels with their harps.
The Old Oak groaned with happiness
And stretched his ancient bark.

When I had finished, my Old Tree
was silent once again.
I knew his life was over,
His adventure at an end.

I sadly trudged back through the Woods
Back to my little home
And as I came out to the path,
I heard a familiar groan.

The Wind was stirring all the trees
Along the forest path,
I felt it sweep against me, saying
“Thanks for one last laugh.”

And so with gladness in my heart
I cantered through my fields
To supper, family and home
And joy that never yields.

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