THE LONELY TREE
There is an old friend – a Lonely Tree
When out my way I wend I always see,
It rests on Green Hall Park,
High, clear, outlined and stark,
With boughs of greenish dark – that friendly tree.
Who planted thee of old, O ancient tree?
Exposed to heat and cold, O lonesome tree?
With no companion friend
To shield thee and defend,
Or sympathy to lend, my grand old tree?
Who told thee where to stay my patient tree?
For many a long, long day, dear forlorn tree?
Was it the Britons, brave?
That set thee there, a slave
To watch the Romish knave, sentinel tree?
Yes, birds have sung their praise, contented, free,
In far passed summer days upon my tree,
But years many and long
Those birds have ceased their song;
Still thou art healthy, strong; brave Lonely Tree.
While winter storms that roar pass by my tree,
And rain in torrents pours upon my tree,
When lightening bursts the cloud,
With voice so threatful, loud,
Thy head in courtesy bowed my loyal tree.
A moral good is taught by this old tree,
Though heard ‘tis soon forgot – Yes! e’en by me.
Mid storm of earthly strife
When grievances are rife,
Rest, trust in God for life, thus says my tree!
I sometimes long to know, dear, dear old tree,
When death’s hand lays thee low,
O friendly tree,
What will thy funeral be?
Where? In what cemetery?
Cremation possibly?
Poor, poor old tree.
Some bard in future days, my stately tree
May chime again thy praise, yes worthy tree.
The points I fail to do
He’ll touch with brighter hue!
“So now I bid adieu, Goodbye old tree
Vernon Morris
20/05/2024
