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The Oak.

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  • The Oak.

    The iron shod hoof fell
    Pressing me down into the bosom of life
    I spread my timid roots,
    With growing confidence deeper, deeper
    Feeding on the soup of English earth
    Drawing strength from my fragile veins
    To break from this armoured shell
    Pushing aside the crinkled leaves of winter
    Out to the shy welcome of an April sun
    I took my first breath
    Nature blessed my infant summer
    Through my fledgling leaves
    I drank the cocktail of resin scented rain
    Stronger now
    Reaching upward for the blue spangled sky
    The rich on horse, the poor on foot
    Sheltered neath my spreading canopy
    Wandering tinkers, ragged charlatans
    With trinkets, ribbons, charms for true love
    Religious relics and cheap tin pots
    And in return for board and lodging
    Birds with tales of far off lands
    My brothers felled for duty
    Lent their bodies to England’s wooden walls
    Braced salt taunt sails of regal clippers
    Chased the trade winds down to Rio town
    Sweeping the raw and restless oceans
    Commerce, war, and thieving plunder
    Homeward bound with Spanish gold
    Now I am marked for death
    The red cross fresh on my cankered trunk
    Soon the cutting tearing chain saw
    Its ripping teeth will end my days
    A last acorn loosens, falls
    Good fortune my little one
    Luck and life be with you,
    Grow strong.

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  • #2
    useless and useful
    the fate of all
    is to fall.


    • #3
      Circle of life, from the POV of a mighty and sturdy member. Great imagery!