Poem imagine 5 – The Tree

Image courtesy of WordPress FreePhoto

THE TREE Part 5 of the imagine series) by (c) Kevin Jones.

Imagine a tree standing in a field,

Even against the strongest wind his roots never ever yield.

Imagine all the changes that he has seen take place,

I wonder if he sees an improving human race?

The tree tells us that he has more the 250 rings inside,

Which means that he is old but not for a tree his kind.

You see he is a mighty oak that live a thousand years,

By that time we have seen it all without too many fears.

One fear that the tree does have is from a lightening strike,

The power from the sky would soon destroy the tree or his like.

So, Mr Tree, what changes do you approve?

It is quite a question for anyone to take before he got into a groove.

Mr Tree pondered and then ruffled each bough and limb,

I think that the question was quite a shock to him.

“I have seen many changes standing in this spot,

Let me tell you about a few – any secrets I have not”.

The tree went on to tell us how all around were fields,

Just to feed each family from the autumn yield.

From the crops grown in the soil and the places they would sit.

Today, farming is all about making money – I think he cried a bit.

100 years ago a farmer boy called Joe Kincade,

Suddenly stopped all digging and put down his wooden spade,

He carved his initials on my chest telling of his love,

The girl of his dreams, a local servant girl,

was his matching dove.

When I was a “mere sapling” the tree went on to say,

A war of independence was being fought – somewhere far away.

America fought off the army of the late third George,

They named their country America and all the states did forge.

Also when I was young I could breathe some pleasant air,

But now I have to filter all the Carbon dioxide with considerable care.

The world seems to be getting warmer and fewer birds visit me,

I like them to come and make their nest – living alongside me.

“When I was young until about 25 rings ago”,

“Mr Tree went on to say, children used to play outside and even put on a show.

But now they stay at home playing games upon a screen,

Surely doing things outside is a much more realistic scene?”

A fellow named Wordsworth a wordsmith by trade,

It is good to see that the words he wrote never seem to fade.

I have also stood – whilst bombs fell from the blackened sky,

A very sad and sickening time – from the village men did die.

So what does the future hold for this proud and sturdy tree,

That is a question perhaps far beyond the likes of you and me.

What I do know how wonderful the tree currently does look,

A testimony to to his root and water from the tiny brook.

I hope that in another 250 years or so,

People will still love and nurture trees – as we don’t want them to go.

There is a big campaign to create forests for rare species to be found.

Let us hope that like Mr Tree they are preserved in good nutritious ground.

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.