Fences Poem by Christine K. Trease

Flowing sweet green meadow gracing
slender dancing fronds,
the twisted oak tree saplings strangle
those who cannot love.

Captured by the moment,
imprisoned by the years,
writhing will not set you free
from crying mirthless tears.

The gnarled fence you crafted
allowed you not to sway
and strangled with constrictions
led you to this day.

Intermittent pleasures
would always rein you in.
You were barricaded firmly
ne'er to love again.