The Prophecies of Oak

I poem inspired by the oak tree in the field near my home

The Prophecies of Oak

 

In the presence of daisies,

And bluebells in the field,

You stand noble, 

Ever mighty,

With the wisdom that you yield,

In your bough you hold newborn,

Helpless Magpies in your arms,

Squirrels skip from branch to branch,

They enchant with playful charm,

Your spirit is reborn,

With the colours that you bring,

As you reach towards a rainbow,

You foresee the birth of spring.

 

In company of sunshine,

You stand to shelter from its wrath,

As I lay beneath your branches,

Amidst wildflowers in the grass,

Running free amidst the meadow,

Wild rabbits they flash by,

Butterflies frolic in the heather,

As sun shines in my eyes,

Your spirit burns so brightly

At your feet I lay in slumber,

As bees flirt with flowers,

You foresee the birth of summer.

 

In company of moonlight,

Silver falls upon your leaves,

Mighty oak I heed your calling,

As you whisper on a breeze,

The fruits of your labour,

Fall like raindrops from your touch,

Wind whispers through the darkness,

Taking colour from your clutch,

Your spirit settles in shadow,

Drawnt upon the moonlit walls,

As your foliage sails to heavens,

You foresee the birth of fall.

 

In the company of a snowman,

You are concealed in brilliant white,

That fell upon the silence,

In the loneliness of night,

Footprints indent as I wander,

Through clouds upon the earth,

Only a Robins here to greet me,

I walk alone as life seems scarce,

Your spirit rests amidst the sleeping,

As all life lays in the hush,

Only me trailed by my footsteps,

As you foresee the winters rush.