#Poem – merry happy very

Needles of dried
And lifeless pine
Lie strewn about
Under the ancient
Tree.
Still beautiful,
It is no longer the
Majestic monster
That ruled the yard
Nine years ago.

Now, the boughs creak
As the wind rustles though
Dried pine cones that will
Never drop.
They are not the fruit of
The tree as they used to be.
They are simple weighty
Waste
Bobbing ironically
At the end of non-supple
Limbs.

(All that you have seen,
O Tree,
Is beyond what I can
Hold.
And you hold it well:
Friend, shade, and
Wind-guard.)

Yet, the pine does
Not worry whether
Its purpose has run out
Or its time has come
To be cut down.

It stands tall against
The frozen, Winter wind
And lets it’s branches
Do the dance called
Sway To And Fro.

High on the trunk,
Painted with bark and
Sap (dried up long ago)
Are wide-rimmed smiles
Of memory, joy and glee.

~ by Stan Stewart
Copyright © 2010 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
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♫ Merry Christmas, 2010 ♫