ONE TREE FIELD
Just that one single tree, alone in the field
Among empty acres, and nothing for miles
Standing so silently, as if its lips are sealed
This is a calmness of nature, and not wild
A tree left quite alone, as if given respect
For its age and beauty, despite its position
Perhaps it may be something to that effect
At least it’s reflecting a considered decision
It still communicates via an autumn breeze
Never lonely, and so much history to share
As it’s maintaining contact with other trees
Yet little of the other life around, is aware
But it does stand out and is a perfect scene
It’s as a calendar, reflecting seasonal change
The bare winter branches, in silhouette seen
To Spring, with new leaf growth to arrange
Then a fashionable posing in summer’s glory
Sunlight balanced by the touch of warm rain
And autumn colours offer a whole new story
But a cold winter season always returns again
Yet still it stands there, complete and proud
No human touch, but admired all the same
As only respectful farm workers are allowed
Who, over generations, will call it by name