THOUGHTS ON SEEING DEAD TREE
Stark it stood and naked, yet still it was noble and tall,
Stubborn in death, unwilling or unable, not wanting to fall.
I wondered how it died as I gazed at its form in pity,
In full leave it would be a thing of splendour and great beauty.
Was it struck by lightening, one excruciating pain, then to die.
And all the happy years of its life flash all too quickly by.
Remembering in that moment of torment the good years, the bad,
Were his friends around him feeling gratitude, but also feeling sad.
A tree of great beauty killed by natures thoughtless cruel fate,
Knowing he should have lived on to a very much later date,
Now amid the vivid growth of green he stood dead and bare,
Attracting the eye of many who do pass close by there.
Did you suffer in silence, of disease year after year?
Of your pain and anguish no one ever know or even hear,
Until that great tree heart of yours could take the hurt no more,
Then one autumn your leaves fell the last time to the floor.
Or was it the soil? Not rich enough for you and each friend,
Did you unselfishly on too little nourishment depend.
Slowly dying of hunger as you grew not quite as tall
As you should over the years, your leaves too early fall.
However you died dear tree it pained me to see you there.
Naked branches and stark trunk standing still in the evening air,
I could imagine your grace and beauty before death came your way
And wished you could have gone on living for many a long day.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson July 12, 2003