MY TREE

No-one knows the story, only me

No-one knows the wisdom

Of the old oak tree

He stood alone for many years

And watched the world go by

He sees the ever-changing shapes

Of clouds high in the sky

He talks to all the people,

Although they never listen

But I suspect the children know

That he sheds some tears that glisten

Because he feels so lonely

And very, very sad

That everyone in the world today

Seems so very bad.

But through the daily troubles

My tree still stands, so still

And straight and mighty

With an overwhelming will

To spend the time, so patiently,

To await the coming days

When the world will slowly calm itself

And gently change its ways.