The Mighty Oak

This has taken a while to perfect – it came from a walk last evening down a twisting lane and the size of this tree commanded such a presence over the valley. Speaking to our host, he tells me that he always greets this tree and wonders himself what the tree has witnessed over the centuries.



The mighty oak
Commands the view
Huge in girth,the ages span
Secrets tightly held within-
Carrying the map of a life on its skin,
A heart,concentric in finely banded rings
When wide,signals a year of plenty;
Narrowed the scars of misfortune emptied,
Growing through famine and tempest strengthened;
In civil war, a poet’s tune
Plain heard across this upland scene
Through the canopy of green;
And lamentations of shepherds’ dreams
Have presented laboured to those heavy boughs,
Recalling storms, of winters long:
Ewes who strayed,the price is wrong
Of lambs a year along
And moonlit meetings held in song;
In its shadow, messages whispered , A lover’s tryst;
As carts and gigs rattled so,
Servant girls, that way have passed,
lingering there to gossip fast,
A breath to last;
Train whistle; rattling tram,
Came and went in puffs of smoke
This tree breathed the fumes of coal and ore
Cleaned the air that would choke
The mighty Coity oak;
Through change and centuries
Strength imbued
And strong and mighty has it grown,
Now most quintessentially known
A king upon the pastoral throne .





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