The Tree

The tree again stands alone and silent
This year’s crop is gone
The field around it lies still and bare
And in the quiet of dusk the trees begins to care


What will keep it company in the coming year
When winter winds have blown, and spring returns anew
It wonders in its ancient heart, with roots deep in the ground
What new friends will come to sit beneath, and what new joys will be found

It remembers days of long ago, of rich harvests
And workers finding its shade in the heat of the sun
They rested beneath its branches, escaping from the toil
Their laughter rode the breeze, mingling with fragrance of the soil


The tree was a cherished friend, a shelter from the sun, the rain
A place of quiet and peace when the evening called
Its leaves would whisper gentle songs, a lullaby so sweet
As workers closed their eyes to dream, beneath its cool retreat


Now it stands alone once more, a watchman in the night
Gazing at the sky above, with its white magical clouds
And the tree wonders what the future holds, what secrets time will share
And hopes to be a friend again, to those who need its care


For in the branches, its leaves, are tales of years long gone
Of laughter, love and toil under the open sky
The tree will stand and wait in hope, its heart ever true
For every season brings a chance, for something bright and new.