written from an experience at my old grandmother's house late at night at a sleepover where the branches scratched the window in the calm breeze in the light of an old lamppost outside


The Ancient Oaks


~~
The Ancient Oaks, mystified in neon light they stand
Once in the backwoods they flied for the North Winds...
Generations have grown and seen the Mystique in their
green leaves and spreading branches,
before they faced morbid death...
but the Ancient Oaks still lives on...
~~
The Oaks in the Church-yards, keeping their Secrets,
waving in the night
The Oaks in your Garden, once from the same Woods,
Now scratching at your window as they shine in the
moonlight.
Do not fear...hear their tale and remember,
Yet another tide will come, but the ravages of our past
can not consume,
What once has shared so many Holy Secrets...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~87~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~LordParzifal




Poetry by LordParzifal
Read 386 times
Written on 2009-09-23 at 01:29

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Joan Black
Wonderfully written, good job!
2010-07-08