Lou Schreiberg Poet I do not know?

Tree Upon the Hill

Once, among the daffodils
Stood a shy old tree,
I said 'Hello, old friend'
It rustled a reply to me,
'I hurt, as you can see'

'Why is that so, I need to know,
How do you hurt? I asked,
'You look sublime,
Limbs are fine,
Fit for winter's task

'Looks deceive,
You must believe,
In solitude, I stand forlorn,
Once I stood with other trees,
Now their lives are shorn'

'Some were aged and hewn away,
Others, for reasons unknown,
Yet, here I stand
In forgotten cheer,
I ask, why am I now alone?'

I stood in silence,
Hand on bough,
My new friend was in distress,
Surely, an answer must be found,
'til then, I bear unrest'

A thought occurred
Of long ago, 
This tree upon the hill, 
That once it urged my love and me
To pick the daffodils

'My friend, stand proud,' said I,
Alone, you will never be
For many a lover upon this hill
Will ever remember thee'

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