Broken Oak
Intro:
To be a writer such as he, there are none
His work outlasts the best, I’m sure…
…~William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601-
“to hold, as t’ were, the mirror up to nature…”
BROKEN OAK
~*Rispetto/ Miranda Lambert ©*~
Contest: “The Tree”
Written: 04/20/2011
Nestled on scaly plates, known as the White Oak
Pennetly lobed leaves, twiddled between my fingers
While the morning dew, the summer sun did soak
As the aura of this native wood lingers
In the “Y” shaped branches, only I could fit
And hour or two I stay, as luck would have it
Ghastly winds blow my hair, my branch starts to sway
We both come tumbling down, dwindling away
Copyright © Wandering Butterfly | Year Posted 2011
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