Weathered old tree,
Weathered old tree,
Green branches and trunk
As far as one can see.
Birds in your tree top,
Protected from the sun,
Shelter for the animals,
Every single one.
What people have you met
Who are no longer here?
How'd you survive the seasons,
Year after year?
Weathered old tree,
You're a perfect lovely sight.
Glorious to behold
Whether day or darkened night.
The wind's gentle breeze
Make leaves sway to and fro.
I hope you'll be around
Long after I have to go.
Weathered old tree,
Like a wise gift to earth.
May you live for many more decades,
Bringing gentleness, peace, and mirth.
WHAT, IF ANYTHING, DO YOU LIKE ABOUT TREES?
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7 comments:
I love that tree - can you think of all the history it has seen?
I love trees generally. But when I was a girl, I especially liked the birch tree with its parchment-like bark. There is nothing like finding a small shady copse of silver birch trees in the woods. There is something about them that makes me feel happy.
Sending a big hug,
Brenda xox
Your poem is as lovely as the tree. I love trees. We have a red bud tree, perfectly shaped which I love!
I love trees and have many in the front and back yard. I liked your poem and that trusty old tree photo too.
We have a giant oak that completely shades our deck. It's like a huge umbrella. It's home to many birds and squirrels. It's also been known to drop acorns on your head! There is a legend that the Indians rowed their canoes across our lake and massacred a fort at the top of the hill behind us. It is called Murder Mountain and every July 23 {the date of the massacre} you are supposed to able to hear the screams of the Indians and the settlers! I wonder if our mighty oak was there. I love your poem!
I like everything about the trees.....they provide shade for us in the heat, they are beautiful, the older they get, the more special they are, the beauty of them, and the stories they would tell if only they could. What a wonderful big old tree I'm assuming that's right in your front yard. Love the poem, Susan, and the pictures. : )
~Sheri
I love your photos and the poem. The home where I grew up had several large pecan trees. Each autumn, we would enjoy picking up the pecans and then we would help mother bake Christmas cakes and cookies. One year we had a big surplus of pecans and sold them to a local grocer, I bought a formal dress for my piano recital with the cash.
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