Christopher Bunton Poet Quintain (English)

All the Trees

All the trees I knew are gone.
Removed by fear and greed.
No longer to sing a song,
As wind blows through their leaves.
Never again to drop a seed.

The trees of our childhood delight
Where I carved her name, like we'd never part.
Where we camped under at night,
or cried with a broken heart.
Where plans were made for a new start.

The old tree house broke into bits.
The tree where you fell and split your head.
Where long gone grandpa cut a switch,
Under which we gathered, and she said,
"I Do".  And followed where ever he led.

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Mandy Tams The Golden Girl February 23, 2012 at 10:56 AM lovely, and sad Chris the lungs of the earth are being ripped out without much thought xx Christopher Bunton February 23, 2012 at 3:20 PM True. Thank you!

Rhonda Johnson-Saunders February 23, 2012 at 12:11 AM Sad but true. I can relate. We have seen too much "progress" where I live. A great write! Christopher Bunton February 23, 2012 at 3:20 PM Thank you!

Debra Squyres February 22, 2012 at 5:37 PM This is sad...it's almost stealing a memory...well done !! Christopher Bunton February 22, 2012 at 7:24 PM Thank you!!