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        AVENUE OF TREES
The avenue of trees seemed so foreboding,
A gusty wind blew and no birds did sing,
Menacing branches reached down low,
The bark on the trees cruel faces did show.

Each leaf turned it’s back at my approaching,
Every tree distorted in twisted, evil dancing,
Unseen eyes watched me as I walked through,
The loud screeching wind ever harder blew.

In summer it was such a lovely, gentle place,
But the storm has changed each tree’s face
From a thing of beauty to fill me with despair,
All alone I stood, no one else at all was there

Trees could not hurt me, the faces were not real,
Stand up tall, hold my head up high and feel
That I have the strength and courage to go on,
Until my goal was completed, finished and done.

I tried to sing a little song to help me on my way,
The trees seemed to listen and lessened their sway,
Gone were the hidden eyes and the cruel faces,
It seemed each branch wanted that song’s embraces.

I sang a hymn that I knew very well, I was at peace,
The fear I felt within me miraculously did cease,
The old trees were no longer scary and foreboding,
But my old friends just by a strong wind tossing.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson August 16, 2003