Monday, 1 August 2011

   A tree it stands

A tree it stands
alone so proud
an oak I think
not old but young.

The wind passes through
and branches lean
the roots grip hard
to earthen banks
embraced so close
by mother earth.

Then swallows dip
from high to low
o’er purple field
with yellow too
a patchwork quilt
by mother earth.

Below the tree
white sheep just graze
their lambs asleep
the grass so green
this peaceful scene
by mother earth.

  Beauty here is everywhere
the tree will stand for centuries more
on mother earth.

5 comments:

CherryPie said...

Think of all the secrets that tree keeps.

the cuby poet said...

It just begged to noticed standing alone as it was.

krouth said...

Nicely done!

upwoods said...

I sat beneath a small oak yesterday and admired it. Your poem is beautiful. Thank you!

the cuby poet said...

krouth-thanks
upwoods-thanks for your comment. Oak trees of any age are beautiful.