Poetry

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As a young girl out the window I stared,
A look of delight on my face,
Looking out across the field,
What a glorious, and marvelous place.

On top of the hill stood two large oaks,
With branches entwined as if one.
And just like my grandpa,
Their bark appeared wrinkled,
In the afternoon sun.

All through my childhood,
These two stayed the same,
Standing strong forever it seemed.
Together during all of the seasons,
Faithfully as God had it deemed.

It has been almost a decade since the storm went through,
And split up that wonderful pair.
As one tree laid down and became a part of the earth,
The other grew older with flair.

Now there he stands, that one lone tree,
His limbs torn and tattered by the years.
Yet he continues to live from the very same ground,
To where his life-mate sadly yielded.
But each spring his leaves green, each fall they turn brown,
To make certain their memories are saved.

Now as I stand at the window and admire that tree,
So aged, lovely, and tall.
Their memories continue and always will be,
As long as he has leaves left to fall.

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