MN ( / )

~watching Our Young Tree~

As the wind begins to bluster
we watch that tattered tree.
It's grown to mean so much to us
we planted it....you and me.

Today the wind seems brutal
as we watch our young tree bend.
Our fear is that it's just too weak.
Don't let this be the end.

In horror we just watch it
while it nearly bends in half.
We hear it creak (or is it cry) .
And through our nerves we laugh.

To our suprise it stands tall.
It's weathered one more day.
It may be slightly curved now
but that curve will go away.

We get to watch our young tree
grow to wondrous heights.
In life this also happens
but do we recognize the sights.

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Comments (1)

Trees hold such memories, we have certain ones in the garden for certain occasions and certain events. A Parrotia for our dog Rory, A Turkish Hazel for our dog Lottie, a Japanese Maple given us by a friend no longer with us, a Fir tree belonging to Anthony great uncle. All are lovely to look upon and they are all doing well. May your tree grow stout and strong, and your togetherness too. Lovely poem Love Ernestine XXX