Twisted Oak

As I sit here quietly

Beneath your brow

Your trunk all twisted

As you reach for the sky

Your foliage and acorns

The shade that you give

To this old man now

From when he was a kid.....

In your magnificent age

I wonder and ponder

All you have seen

Over four hundred year’s

Of us human beings.....

This twisted oak

Over one hundred feet high

Struck by lightning

Time after time.....

But even this force

Couldn’t bring you down

Only the chainsaw

Of the council clowns.....

Peter Wicks