Oak Poem by Nick Donaldson

The sky reclines under my arms
So all the aggresive heat strikes my back
The earthy grime wrestle among my feet
My individual toes bind, grapple and shape the scum below

Cast upon a hill, I tower over my realm of sour
I settle upon this spot and take little personal income
Just ask for the great stature I require
And I'll be the only one who nutures myself

The vulnerable sift for me, for their sustenance
A relatonship that has outlasted Creation
For what they demand, I will choose to supply
For the sake of my friends

The bees hang from my tight grasp
As I promote them for a sense of security
Against the villains who rape their tasty conceptions
So they will remain with me for the generations I oversee

The lark sits and slumbers upon my soft touch
For a similair connection of love and regard
I look over the young if the mother is occupied
And hide them from the buzzards and crows

That hideous fungi: ill-favoured among the rest
It sits at the bottom and reveres at me
It's growth, and life, relies heavily on what I give it
Yet I count on no feedback

All this release will have to end
Eventually I will stop and retire, so will the others
They cannot strive without my guidance
We just fall to the ground and feed the next...