Mario Vitale Poet Free verse

The Old Oak Tree

The Old Oak Tree

I stood beneath an old oak tree;
 how tall it did seem
 Its branches would shelter me as on its bark I would lean;
 as I lay beneath its cooling
 branches I would tell it my
 troubles and my dreams

 It was summer in my life, and oh so busy I was;
 to notice its weathering branches;
 to notice the tree I loved
 Soon the leaves began to change
 and bake upon the ground;
 red, yellow, orange and shades of golden brown

 The old oak tree was dying from its branches the birds did not sing
 for snow was now drifting and to its branches did cling
 As death comes and takes us away,
 so it did with the tree that day.
 When spring began to visit the earth once again,
 and flowers were blooming everywhere


 I decided to take a walk
 and visit the tree I knew wasn't there
 The hillsides were blanketed
 with shades of mellow greens
 and I stood alone; just God, the flowers and me in my blue jeans
 As I stood in the midst of dancing colored flowers
 my eyes began to swell with tears

 was a twig that would be grown in a few more years
 The sun began to warm the sky
 and by that twig I did lie,
 telling it my troubles and my dreams;
 just God, the twig and I in my blue jeans

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