The Cherry Tree

Written by: Ann Anderson

The cherry tree
knows me well,
my thoughts, my dreams,
my kiss and tell.

Experiments of love and youth,
he shielded me,
he was my roof.

We carved our names
for all to see,
we grew beneath
that cherry tree.

The second world war
called you away,
beneath the cherry tree
I cried, I prayed.

I waited there through
day, through year,
so longing again
your voice to hear.

You died in battle
just twenty three,
yet I still wait in dreams, 
beneath our cherry tree.