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Couplet Tree Poems | Couplet Poems About Tree

These Couplet Tree poems are examples of Couplet poems about Tree. These are the best examples of Couplet Tree poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet |

A Bedtime Story

Once, a long ways away, and a long time ago
Lived a wee little man with his silly pet crow;
And once every day, as the sun went to bed
The wee little man and the crow he called Ted
Would go through the woods on a nice little walk;
And while they walked through the woods, his pet crow would talk.
Now, if saying, “Pet crow Ted could talk” twists your tongue,
Just wait till I’m through, and the story is done,
Because Ted tied the twigs of two tall apple trees
To the tips of his toes, and his knobby old knees,
And these twigs made him bounce as he walked ‘round and ‘round,
And he talked really loud while he walked on the ground,
Saying, “Twiddle my fiddles, and tie me a pie,
‘Cause a silly old crow couldn’t fly high as I.”
Then the wee little man said, “You silly old bird,
Just the way that you talk takes the sense from a word;
For if fiddles could twiddle, and pies had a string,
Then ants would walk backwards, and old crows would sing.”
Replied Ted the crow to the wee wizened man,
“Perhaps ants can’t do it, but old crows sure can.”
Then he puffed out his chest, and he cawed cockaroo,
And he sang an old song titled, “How Do You Do?”
“How do you do, little maid, Liddy Lee
When the crows come by twos, and they perch on the tree?
What do you see, little maid, Liddy Lee
When the crows throw the cockleshells out on the sea?
Where do you go, little maid, Liddy Lee
When the snow drives the crows from the mulberry tree?
And what do you hear, little maid, Liddy Lee
When the crows throw the snow on the cockleshell sea?”
But the old man just laughed and said, “Such silly songs
Never croaked such a crow as he hopped right along,
Because ants can’t walk backwards, and crows cannot sing,
Just like horses can’t fly, nor do turtles have wings.”
Now the crow wasn’t happy with what had been said
So he said, “I will sing you another instead,”
Then he puffed out his chest, and he cawed cockaree,
And he sang him a song called, “When Two Turned to Three.”
“When two turned to three, and when five turned to four
Things got much stranger than ever before.
There were two little pigs, and but two blinded mice,
And the two musketeers played with three little dice.
There were five and twenty blackbirds flying in the sky;
And four the little famous boy who never told a lie.
When six turned to seven, and eight turned to ten,
Snow White had six little dwarves with her then.
All the town clocks struck first ten, nine, then eight;
And people were always too early or late,
So they turned it all back to six, seven, eight, nine,
That way we could always keep track of the time.
Now the three pigs are three, and there’s three blinded mice,
And the three musketeers play with two little dice,
And the wee little dwarves number seven in all,
And the clock strikes from one up to twelve down the hall.”
But the old man just laughed and said, “Such silly songs
Never croaked such a crow as he hopped right along,
Because ants can’t walk backwards, and crows cannot sing,
Just like snakes don’t have legs, nor do bunnies have wings.
And with that, the old man put his pet crow to bed;
And till early next morning not a sentence was said.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

My Fragile Friends

Please speak to me my lovely friend
With leaves stirred softly by the wind

Under enchanted autumn sky
Where your susurrate sounds drift by.

Sing soft melodies in choir
As leaves glow as if on fire.

I feel your abject dying pain 
When wet and cold from chilling rain.

I remember spring at your birth,
How you brightened verdant earth.

And then in summer your soft shade
Where under your cool leaves I laid.

You always spoke or sang to me
While holding close your mother tree.

But now in autumn's silver sky
Soft spoken leaves whisper goodbye.

© Connie Marcum Wong

September 17, 2016 Poem of the Day

Leaves talking - Poetry Contest
Sponsor John Lawless N/A

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Tree of Life

The tree of life grows limbs above,
Its strength began in roots of love...
Each limb's branches may grow apart
Yet venture not far from its heart.

Concentric circles share great worth
In trials it has endured since birth,
Having weathered many a storm
Defined by bent or twisted form.

Still beauty reigns throughout the years
In steadfast growth with hopes and fears,
As earthlife seasons come and go
A will to carry on and know,

Though treasured limbs may break and die,
Newest growth reaches for the sky.
Seedlings will spread, divine and free...
In honor of the mother tree.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Below a Douglas Fir

Below a Douglas Fir tree one beautiful moonlit night I sat there with my Missy as we viewed a lovely sight The aurora borealis was lighting up the sky Then something to my right suddenly caught my eye A gem from outer space tore across the cobalt blue Leaving behind a trail a quite spectacular view Two in trapped capture witnessing a shooting star We wonder where it came from, out there from afar We sat there for ages chatting about the sight we seen Phenomena such as this are generally seen in dreams Below the Douglas Fir tree that beautiful moonlit night We marvelled at it's arrival as it disappears from sight http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-13.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |

Is it Just me

Sometimes I don't know, is it just me Why am I standing, when I should be in the trees Sometimes I don't know if it's right for doing wrong It appears that I'm singing a totally different song Sometimes like in my past, is it just me Maybe I'd be happier, back amongst the leaves .

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |


Sidney sloth was so very very shy He’d hide in the treetops way up high Hanging upside down so no one could see He’d painted his toes red like a ripe cherry Sidney hid in the tree so silently High in the branches where no one could see But soon Sidney discovered a major snag Ripe cherries were being picked and put in a bag The cherry picker pulled at one of Sidney’s toes Sidney was no longer in a state of sweet repose! Wanting to maintain his privacy Sidney climbed to the top of the tree Soon autumn came and the leaves she did thieve Forcing poor Sidney to hurriedly leave Sidney sought sanctuary in a local zoo Now he can’t be seen by me or you! Fun write inspired by the idiom contest 07~29~16 New or Old 3 contest Sponsored by Eve Roper

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Naughty Kitties In A Silver Tree

Came home just the other day
Caught my kitties well at play

Cats like to climb up trees it's true
They have the Christmas spirit too!

But not my lovely Christmas tree!
They looked as innocent as can be

With ornaments hanging off his nose
One came out smelling like a rose

For his little sister was worse than that
She was a silver garland-wrapped cat!

Oh they had such fun 'til I came home
Their saucer eyes so brightly shone

I couldn't stay mad for very long
Soon was singing a different song

Found the camera and flashed some shots
Cleaning up all the messy spots

Re-hung the ornaments on the tree
Again it was lovely as could be!

Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |

Sun of Life

the sounds of wilderness
life never makes a mess

the shadows of the trees
be moving with the breeze

in the winter cold
it won't be as bold

but now the sun is here
life goes on without fear

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Oak Tree Swing

There's a swing that is hung from a long oaken tree,
By a string where the young have a longing to be.

Where they fly to the sky, ever higher they go,
Till they cry, "Not so high! I shall die, don't you know?"

And they tread through the wold all around by the tree,
Where it's said ruins old can be found by a key.

How they thought many-a night how this fact could be true,
And they fought to set right while they wracked in a crew;

But they never could figure that blur in the tale,
So they clamber with vigor the fir by the trail.

They'd retrace to the place where the moss covered tree
Like a face, beamed with grace as it tossed o'er the lea.

Such a hold that tree held on their glad little selves
As they trolled songs of eld with the bad little elves;

And the song that they sing is a song specked with tears,
Of a long oaken swing cast along through the years;

Left alone by the lane, overgrown, never seen,
Ever blown by the rain, with a groan deep and keen,

Till a small little girl stopped a while on her way,
And a tall oaken burl with a smile bade her stay.

How she clove in a dive through the grove, and the tree,
How it throve, came alive in the cove, in the lea.

{Comments and critique by those knowledgeable 
about consonance vastly appreciated.}

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |


Below the fingers reaching, growing
Into darkness, stretching..holding

Feeding above tiny buds of green
Working day and night, beauty unseen

Preparing a mighty fortress strong and bold
To withstand battles, ancients foretold

Above saplings bend supple in summer breeze
Not realizing, soon comes winter's freeze

Life's cycles pass from season to season
Saplings now majestic, offering no reason

Below the mysterious changes take place
Green turns to rainbows, across horizons face

Encased in ice, and snow of white
They sleep, feeding both day and night

Awaiting first tiny buds of green
Below the magic remains unseen

©Donna Jones

Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

Oh, Christmas Tree

An unusual thing occurred at our house Christmas Eve.
It caused us anger, it was enough to make us grieve.

We waited to the last minute for a live Christmas tree:
A brimful tree of precise size, with perfect symmetry.

On Christmas Eve, we pulled it inside the house to trim.
As we tugged it through, we discovered something grim.

Although the tree was green, it was dead as a doornail.
As we carried it in, pine needles rained down like hail.

It was too late to find another tree, the problem to rectify.
“We can’t have Christmas without a tree,” I wanted to cry.

Long gone the days to trek into woods & chop one down.
I wanted to stomp my foot, I wanted someone to crown.

Not only was there no tree, we vacuumed piles of needles.
“Honey, we need an artificial Christmas tree,” I wheedled.

 ‘After Christmas sales,’ afforded us a great opportunity.
  Now, I can decorate the tree each year, with impunity.

  No worry about limbs drooping, no watering to do. I
   like the convenience. I like the look of it too. After 

                               the tree 
                            that counts, 
                       it’s what’s under it. 
                        Don’t you agree? 

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Go Dog Go A Dr Suess Parody

The dog was driving fast when the light turned green
and drove as if the red was a light between.
He was in a terrible hurry for a party in a tree.
It was just about ten minutes on his clock that he could see.
He pulled up to a maple that had branches speading wide
and hanging from the first one was a poodle he had spied.
He asked him many questions to find others who were friends
and thanked him for his help as they spoke to greater ends.
He went up in the tree on an old rope ladder
and almost fell back down to a poor weak bladder.
When high attop the tree he could see quite far.
All his friends were partying hardy just above his car.
He was offered several drinks all with straws bright pink
and sipped them very slowly as the music made him think.
He talked with many friends as he shared a joke
and walked around on branches careful not to fall and croak.
As he watched the sun fall down and it got quite late
He remembered his long drive and his homeward fate.
So he said his many thank you's and goodbyes quite late
and headed for his car putting down his plate.
It wasn't very long till he reached his home
while remembering the day as his longest roam.
As he set his tiny clock to get up the next day
he knew it wouldn't be as the one today.


Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2009

Details | Couplet |

In high definition

In high definition... There is an old oak tree in our backyard. This old oak limbs weep like a willow. It branches out to the stars. The moon effervescent shines above. During the winter, the moss hangs low. I see the wind blow through its leaves in autumn. There is an old oak in our backyard Where a widow sits beneath weeping over love lost. The dawn has broken. The dew is high. This old oak is well defined. She has limbs that reach high in the sky. The sun photosynthesis makes each leaf shine. Her depth is sublime. This old oak is part of home. Many visitors she knows as a widower rests before he moves on. This old oak tree stands tall As a City's landmark. |__________________________________________________| Penned on November 22, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Sweet Willow Tree

Down by the lake, planted magically nearby
Stands a sweet willow tree forty feet high.
The crystallized tree glitters so bright;
Bursting with colours of candy delights.
Children from all over visit each day
To gather and gaze the delicious array.
Circling the tree, they dance around;
Hand in hand, like a merry-go-round.
Their energy stirs such a powerful swirl,
Sending the branches into a twirl.
Dangling bonbons begin to fall;
Baskets are filled leaving nothing at all.

Twilight arrives with its colourful glow
And sugar filled blossoms begin to grow.
By morning the willow is flourished and sweet,
Ready for the day's visitors to greet!

by Ana Espinola Collins

Copyright © Ana Espinola Collins | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Under the Christmas Tree

Under the festive Christmas tree
Down there we lie, just you and me

The lights have dimmed, but candles blaze
In tranquil night, my arm you graze

I lie still in this quiet night
Passion shines there, in your eyes bright

Your lips, they warm me with a smile
You let it nestle for a while

The colored lights on our tree blink
How do they know, I'm on the brink?

And then you love me, sweet delight
All else just blurs away from sight

No one to witness this exchange
As your hands play emotion's range

The fire gives that added glow
I am adored, and this I know

This Christmas, love has been reborn
As new vows by our lips are sworn

You touch my hair and plant a kiss
Under the tree, I taste sheer bliss

Eileen Manassian

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Poet Tree

A leaf that tumbles in the air
And drifts upon the ground.
A person who sighs and smiles
With eyes that speak no sound.
Poetry is rooted in the earth,
And flies upon the wind.
It is not a sonnet nor a verse,
It’s a feeling from within.

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet |

In A Hotel Room

The ghats,grey serpents in green thickets
cool and moist, dampens restless midgets

There ,in  a hotel ,in the lushness of the tropic's crown
are trees mighty tall with neat flights of stairs hanging down.

stood  perched on trees, a cabin each of uneven logs
with wooden planks hand-polished to parqueted  floors

A large cypress cot,an inviting bed ,the sensuous Umrao-Jaan
on canvas overhead, glowing in hues from a crystal pan

white porcelain figures, lovers dancing  on mantle;love lounges,
windows open to wild flora , a few ripe mangoes hanging in bunches

On the rails ruddy jasmine vines flaunt little white stars
antique bamboo lanterns at the door , happy to be ajar
warm aroma from oils of wild-herb toiletries exude
wanting a trickle on the heated hearts' pursuit

cute candles whispers roses and jasmine in the air
nothing more,  the imp of the mind feasts on love in the air. 

on the small balcony , the cool breeze of the underwoods caress
In this tree-house,bask in nature...at its best to soothe five senses. 

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

It's Christmas

Its Christmas time again and the bustle is on ,
cleaning the house, bring out the new stuff
A  touch of paint over there, I’m almost done,
The lights are up, tree fully decorated, My place is decked out !!

In the early Christmas morn, the gifts I lay beneath the tree,
Everything is in place……Ohhhh, what  a beautiful sight to see!

Now retired to bed, pleased as could be
He spoke  - and it caused me to look at the thing I did not see
I’ve cleaned and prepared my house for the day
In the midst of this, have I done the same with life in any way?

The scripture rang  loudly in the blanket of the quite morn-
“A child is born and a Son is given”- am  I ready to receive this gift that’s given?

All the lights I’ve hung, He’s the light of the world
The ornaments on the tree, He’s so precious to me
This tree that stands in my hall so tall
Upon a tree he hung, offered vinegar mingled with gall……

My responsibility right now, is share what’s been offered to me
If you did not have lights or decorated a tree, Could not buy a gift, or just didn’t know the story…

Jesus is the gift that’s waiting for you
Yes, you can receive Him, its long overdue
Just open up your heart, he’ll make it brand new
Take a moment to ponder-
Christmas is celebrating what Jesus has done for you !!!

Merry Christmas!!!

12/15/11 revisited 12/17/12

Copyright © Sharon Hyland | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet |

Upon A Bed Of Petals

There in a bed of petals rests
The latest blooms burst from their nests

Beneath the trees in even's shade
Those nodding flowers dipped and swayed

And one more tender petal fell
The coloured bed of scents to swell

I'll rest me in this quiet shade
'Till sunset's glow does quickly fade

And rest me in these petals sweet
No kingly throne made greater seat

From thence the view I shall survey
The setting sun, the flowers gay

And if, perhaps, I then should tire
I'd follow this, my heart's desire

And there upon that petalled bed
I'd rest my weary, happy head

Perfumed by fragrance from the ground
To go where pleasant dreams abound

Written for the contest by the same name. First Place.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |


Peach, I reach for you on that tree. 
Soft velvety skin---your cloak of mystery. 

Hanging on a branch, swaying in rhythm with the bards. 
Evade me not as I will suck your juicy innards. 

Your essence dissolves---delivering delight to my being. 
As I bite into you, your sweet nectar is an ecstasy of feeling. 

You came from China and the oaths of brotherhood, 
Sworn in your orchard in "Three Kingdoms" so warriors understood. 

You’re regal and a symbol of peace and honour in an ancient age, 
Painted by Renoir, Monet and Van Gogh, you’re our love rage. 

Recipes of your flesh by great chefs of peach pie and cobbler. 
With rum and a touch of lemon, you twirl and twist in lyrical banter. 

You’re not a tropical fruit as you like winter's magic chill. 
Your pink flowery petals bloom in spring’s madness in thrill. 

Leaves and your fruit, the symbol of eternal love in our heart. 
We want to revel in your majesty and never be apart.

Copyright © Raj Napal | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Who Is Your Neighbor

WHO IS YOUR NEIGHBOR Forty feet high and circumference of six feet, my neighbor is a massive Saguaro cactus It can be a source of sorrow or safety to wild creatures running in blackness Probably hundred years old and stands all day in the hot sun unable to run Sometimes a neighborhood gang of lowlifes will drive by and use it for target fun It has two arms and stands close enough to its partner that they are hugging My neighbor is surrounded by many cousins who are jealous of its majestic flowers budding It starts out as little seedling protected by a nurse tree and now by governments My neighbor is so popular around here that his cousins are used for yard ornaments Unfortunately this neighbor is sick from all the exhaust fumes coming from the passing cars I am happy to claim this green giant as my closest, quietest neighbor so far
SassyLady 09/12/15

Copyright © Miss Sassy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Mother In Law Tree

Mother In Law Tree

What if I was to see a certain tree
Appearing in poem written by me
Saying what tree was and was not
Never sweating or ever getting hot.

Next to tree was field that had stone
While it was always standing  alone
Then again to me it had occurred
Never heard my tree say a word.

When I saw tree from sea or land
Branches looked like fingers in a hand;
Never saw it sitting on a throne
Tree always stood there all alone.

God with bark tree did dress and bless
And couldn't ever hear tree confess
All around tree was soil and dirt
Did not see it with a shirt or skirt.

God for me my tree He made
On one side you will find shade
Road horse by with feet in stirrup,
And from tree came maple syrup.

When tree experienced a mishap
Down it would drain much sap
And when on tree it did rain
Water slid off and did not remain.

Walked around tree wearing boots
And underground were many roots
Had been respectable and brave;
Beside it had been buried a grave.

Did die and last time tree I saw
They had called it a mother in law
Around tree grass was all green
Two graves, tree grew up between.

James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Soldier

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |


Trees are moss are grass are stones.
Trees are spirit, nerves and bones.

Trees are air, stars and sky.
Trees are lungs, eyes and I.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |


"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature" William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601

The mighty oak tree is strong all the way to it's roots.
The mighty oak a place the leprechaun hides his loot.

The mighty oak tree is my shade in the summer time.
The mighty oak keeps me cool when the sun shines.

The mighty oak tree has beauty beyond compare.
The mighty oak has alot of years to share.
                              Teresa Skyles

Entered in Constance La France~A rambling poet~The tree contest
                 Thursday, 21 April, 2011

Copyright © T.A. Skyles-Theoklapoet | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |

Green Leaves of Spring


Surveying green, leaves me somewhat unfazed;
‘til spring leaves appear and my eyebrows raise.

Riddle, ma riddle, ma riddle me green,
how many shades of green can be seen?

There’s teal and pine, and most common - chartreuse.
Some leaves are olive, the evergreen’s spruce.

What of mint and moss and there’s lime or jade?
Brownish-specked hazel, my least fav’rite shade. 

The leaves of spring are all about green;
it’s the revival of life that we keen.

When bare trees of winter begin to grow
I go for a drive and watch nature’s show.

written 21 Mar 2015 
for Francine's It's Spring, Show Me the Green contest

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Water Ripples and a Willow Tree

Water Ripples and a Willow Tree

Would a willow weep herself to sleep?
But before she does count her sheep
That are laying below each long limb
In shadows where light is low and dim.

One of the sheep soon went astray
From her mother did wonder away
To see wide world with its each sight
Which she will adore and did delight.

River rapidly ran then slowed down
Saw and heard ripples make a sound
And were in a mostly circular shape
She never know how or way to escape.

Ripples gently passed the willow tree
And then started heading out to sea
Until a current existed everywhere
Now each ripple is no longer there.

Willow soon woke up very next day
To God her prayers she soon did say
Thanking Him for His each wonder
And branches below her that are under.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
River Sea Plantation
Bolivia, NC

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Point Lobos Paths

Last Fall, my church's Scouts and I went hiking.

A few miles north of Big Sur’s coast,
There is a forested park much to our liking.

Point Lobos is the nature preserve that I love most.

The beauty there is supernal, beyond description.

We chose our trails with maps and compasses,
And practiced local plant identification.

I pointed out Monterey Pines and Cypresses.

For a time we climbed a steep inclination.

We looked down into a cove, home of sea otters,
From a viewpoint near the old whalers’ station.

We climbed through a cleft worn down by waters.

That Saturday outing wasn’t a total disaster.

The boys passed tasks to advance in ranks.
Life doesn’t get much better for an old Scoutmaster.

Lastly, to the Great Spirit we all gave thanks.

For Goethe Stanzas contest

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Citrus Ladies

Clementine and Valentine; Margarita and Sangria...
A Mandarine, a Lime, a Blood Orange, and a Valencia...
Each one occupying particular spots,
Four little trees residing in decorative pots.

They might feel their placement's not right;
As they only get just a few hours sunlight.
They look down at the strawberries below, 
Wishing they had such space for their roots to grow.

Even worse, to add insult to their injury,
They must share their pots with plants of the mint family--
Lower plants that the Planter didn't bother to name--
Certainly near-weeds of dubious fame.

Margarita and Sangria, Clementine and Valentine
Will be transplanted someday; they're just biding their time.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |


There is a wit that sows the seed:
Beauty now fits a voice that feeds.

Watch the stillness prompt a sweet trance:
Be a witness to life's pure dance.

Here for a while, find actual voice:
Live a brief smile with easy choice.

The echoes come to greet the strife:
The cycles sum the tree of life.

Joy in this sphere seems frail and brief:
Set sail from here as cheer prunes grief.

Look to the wind to fly away:
Rise above dream to make dream pay.

The seasons change with contrast sharp:
Accept things strange as music harps.

Go forward then to meet your fate:
Create just when things seem too late.

Be beyond fear that stifles hope:
Faith primes and cheers to frame new scope.

Fulfill your lot in time and space:
Live easy plot with fond embrace.

The void awaits the sojourn brave:
You're never late dear foolish knave.

Brief are your days out in the sun:
Sight rainbow rays as life makes fun.

Leon Enriquez
15 March 2015

Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

On White Horse Hill

Alone I stand, the blasted thorn,
Devoid of leaves and all forlorn,
A sentinel for countless years,
Of storms and gales I have no fears.

Ignored by man and sheep and rook
Into the vale I longing, look,
O’er Uffington I survey, long,
As through my twigs a mournful song
Is whispered by the Western wind.
Against the slope I’m firmly pinned,
In ancient chalk my roots are bound
In sight, below, of dragon’s mound.

Unchanging down the ages, I,
Stark silhouette against the sky
And visitors espy me still
Abandoned here, on White Horse Hill.

Copyright © Mike Jones | Year Posted 2014