THE OAK TREE

By Author Paul Hughes

“The Oak Tree” is about young man who was distraught when he thought he'd lost his first true love when she moved away. But he discovered she was not lost.

THE OAK TREE

I sat ‘neath the oak tree, on a carpet of brown

That the arms of that huge tree had spread on the ground.

It had hosted the wild birds for many a Spring,

But today it was silent. The birds did not sing.

I huddled in closer and asked if it knew

Why Life was so empty when I’m without you?

Did my tree feel this lonely each year during May

When, with the green of its mantle, the birds went away?

The tree did not answer, ‘though I needed to know.

So, I stood, my head bowed. I wanted to go.

As I looked at those arms, so staunch, gnarled, and strong,

They leant in the breeze, sensing something was wrong.

My whole body shivered as my oak tree did sway.

So I snuggled in closer, my fears to allay.

The safety I felt in those thick wooden arms

Was so reassuring, it settled my qualms.

It smiled as it quietly recalled former years,

Then cuddled me gently and dried all my tears.

The birds are my friends, said its deep tender voice.

When they rest in my arms, it is by their own choice.

They know that I love them, and shelter provide,

That’s why they sing sweetly when they’re here by my side.

I give them my love. It is totally free.

That’s why every Spring some return here to me.

When they depart, Nature’s whim to obey,

I know ‘twould be easy to beg them to stay,

To tell them I miss them with body and soul,

Without them right here, my life is not whole.

My leaves alter color, they fall in despair,

But my heart remains true to my birds in the air.

New birds will return. I know ‘twill be soon.

My soul will be restored. New leaves I will bloom.

I looked at my oak tree, ashamed by my greed,

My senses dictated by my own selfish need.

For I realised the birds had not gone away,

They sing for my oak tree, every night, every day.

‘Twas only that I, in loneliness caught

Forgot all the lessons so lovingly taught.

That love has no shackles, no bindings to burn,

All souls are free, ‘tis by choice they return.

© Paul Hughes