The stump of a horse chesnut tree
Sits in the long grass beside a path
That has simply been made
By countless numbers of passing feet
Having long worn the grass away
Once it stood tall and proud
Outside of the wood, where it's brothers stood
And some still stand to this day
In May it's white candles danced
To the tune of spring breezes
While in autumn, it's shiny fruit
Gave local children much pleasure
But one day men came with saws
To cut the tree down as far as they could
The wood of the tree was taken away
To a far off industrial town
Now it sits in a few rich houses
Made into good looking furniture
But that lovely furniture can never be
As beautiful as once was that tree.
You put it quite so well in this poem what a tree goes through. Why, I do say, that this poem of yours is very good, indeed. I shall keep on reading more of yours.
Your lovely descriptive piece tells a sad story that has been and still is repeated over and over again throughout the world. The irony is the years it takes for the tree to grow and the minutes man needs to destroy it. However beautiful is the furniture into which it is made, you're right, nothing can replace the majesty of the tree. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxx
Very descriptive Marilyn, what a story it could tell well written Love Lynda xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful write about the Chestnut Tree. I for one have never seen one but have heard about it. The horses knows about it more than I do. Trees are important to the ecology. When they are destroyed without reason and for human enjoyment then it becomes a travesty. Plant a tree. Enjoyed.