Tuesday, June 23, 2009

If Only He Could Talk to Me...

He stands solid and strong
holding his ground;
a century of silent growth.

The eye stares cat-like at me,
lichen crusted within
the wrinkled skin...
he's seen his share of tears and death,
but in grace and steadfast watch
he holds his secrets and never complains
at the scratching scamper and pesky pecking
of his children.

His glory is resilience against all elements.
The finery of his verdant lace in canopy,
covers in cool content; he conducts the wind
with swaying arms that shiver in delight.

He's seen many moons of my mood-
never judges, but shares his breath with me.
If only my gnarly knight could share his secrets...

but he can't, so I'll be content
to love him with a heartfelt hug...
he could probably use one about now.


  1. maybe he talks in whispers and wind..Listen

  2. Perhaps I'll need to pay closer attention... I do feel the love

  3. then the whispers and the wind will soothe you

  4. Thank you Robert for your caring words.