My Favourite Spot

One Autumn day Late on in October, I took a lengthly walk. Along the path into the woods, Among the many leaves. The wind blew in around the trees, As I wound my way beyond. I kept a watch amid the branches, For what I knew lay there. My favourite spot among the leaves: Beneath the old oak tree. It stands alone, In utmost beauty, Reaching far above the rest. Nobody dares to cut it down, Or disturb it's glory. For it alone has been there Since the woods began. It's thick trunk's superiour to all the rest And it's branches entwine the sky: Just like ivy grips the wall And clings onto the brick. Why I love it you can tell, It fills my heart with warmth For this tree was planted long ago, By my great great great great gran.