The Oak

[jobee]

The Oak

Don’t stare at me in winter time,
I’m just an oak tree not a pine,
Pines stay neatly dressed all year,
Come winters chill they have no fear.

From chilly winds and freezing snow,
That rack my bough from top to toe,
Pouring rain and biting sleet,
Unguarded trunk and branches meet.

Pines don’t have this awful stress,
Casting off a summer dress,
They don’t wear my worried frown,
As dancing leaves flutter down.

Changing partners on the way,
Acknowledging their final day,
Hello, goodbye, its time to quit,
No good sighing this is it.

Dance, be merry, twirl around,
Twist and flutter to the ground,
Make a carpet o so rich.
Block the farmer’s drainage ditch.

The pine looks on with nonchalant air,
Smartly dressed with not a care,
My silhouette is stark and bare,
To natures gaze and freezing air.

O how I wish I was a pine,
To hold these dying leaves of mine,
Don’t stare at me in winter time,
Come back in May and I'll be fine
jb©©