Calm and quiet as a devoted monk,
Bows strong and steady from his trunk.
For a century or more he stood –
And cast strange shadows in the woods.
Age and loyalty – Twist and hide,
Invaluable rings he wore inside.
Arthritis creeped into every fold –
Kind moss cloaked him from the cold.
Pray for fruit on each gnarled limb
Until the dawn of day deluded him…
He goes unnoticed…
It’s been so long
That when he’s gone
Sad mist surrounds ~
Drips dew drops down…
On the tombstone stump –
Deep in the ground.
Copyright Valerie J. Hayes and Quiet West Vintage (2014). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie J. Hayes and Quiet West Vintage with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.