The Tree

The Tree

The Tree

My earth bound roots support my thrust into the sky;
There I stood majestic til the forester came by.
His arm with lethal weapon brought me crashing down,
To cut me up and shape me for planks to grace the town
This might of forest beauty now holds their garden beds,
My spirit resting quietly, where human footfalls tread.
Lovers locked together upon my smoother boards,
neath silver moon their love will soon be my one reward.

Bill

Photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash

 

Like this Poem?

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on email

Leave a Comment

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

Contact Marg

I care about your experience. Please fill in your details and I will contact you shortly.

Loading...