Upon a hill stands a tree
My husband planted there,
Representing the child
That I could not bear.
From a tiny seedling
The tree grew strong and tall,
Braving all the seasons
Summer, winter, spring, and fall.
To the hill he'd go each day
To gaze upon that tree,
From one branch he hung a swing
For his child that would not be.
In it's shade he'd sit and dream
For many hours every day,
He'd envision the children we couldn't have
As they might romp and play.
I watched him grow old with the tree
And saw the emptiness in his soul,
It was I who made him that way
His happiness I had stole.
Twas a cool summers eve neath the tree he sat
His thoughts with the children at play,
God saw fit to take my man
To his playground far away.
There neath that tree stands a stone
The epitaph of a childless man,
"This tree is my child, my love and my life,
Eternally it shall stand."
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
BARREN
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12 comments:
Gorgeous picture... Great poem...
Kids in the art class walk out to draw this tree. It's just south of town.
Hi! moonshadow, That is a very well written and very sad poem indeed. I imagine it would affect others this way as well. A sign of a great poet.
Regards
Peter McCartney
Wow
I feel your pain, his pain . . . I had a friend, who had no children and I didn't understand until one day he told me . . . I was so very lucky. Thanks for sharing. Dreams are yours to share . . . your friend, Dan.
Thank you, Peter. You are so kind.
Dan - It's not MY pain. I just wrote about it. I'm glad my words were able to move you, though. I raised six children, two of my own and 4 step. Plus neighbor kids here and there.
A very powerful poem with such deep meaning. I was very moved by your writing.
Thank you, cindy! I appreciate you coming by and allowing me to share my expressions.
Moving poem, kind of sad for the woman, she was just as lonely as him.
Thanks
Czecho - Thanks for stopping by, and you're right. His obsession with wanting children left her without a companion.
Wow, that's both beautiful and sad. That poor woman...
K.
The photo is lovely--what a stately tree. And your poem is very touching--makes us realize how precious life is and how important our connections to life and continuity are!
Thank you for your comments Kate and Lynda.
The picture doesn't do the tree justice. I really should find out if there's a story behind it's standing in the wheat field. Farmers around here don't hesitate to chop down trees that are in the way of there wheat planting. They've cut out whole hedge rows for a few feet more wheat to the point, I believe, that we're plagued with dust storms once again. So to see this standing in the middle of the field is quite an oddity.
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