The Old Oak Tree <br /> <br />The old Oak tree, a splendorous beauty, <br />It stands alone, oh the generations its seen, <br />Quietly standing, humped and frail, <br />A son of nature, fulfilling its duty. <br /> <br />Once small and strong, its growth was slow, <br />Through all the years, that nature allows <br />The birds, the flowers, it has seen them all, <br />Sunrise, sunset, and the beautiful moon glow. <br /> <br />The sounds it’s heard, the sights it’s seen, <br />Swaying gently and strong, with the breeze it feels, <br />A home for the squirrels, for the nest of birds, <br />The arrival of seasons, with leaves of crest green <br /> <br />A life near end, only nature will fear, <br />The absence of its beauty, the forest will know, <br />The strength, the beauty, and seedlings it shared, <br />Fulfilling it’s duty, as nature sheds a tear. <br /> <br />B J Ayers<br /><br />B.J. Ayers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-oak-tree-4/
