The Sycamore Poem by James Casey

The Sycamore

Beneath the grove of Sycamore
Just beyond the well worn path
Beyond the call of Jimmy's chore
And the range of father's wrath....

Below her leaf filled branches lie
Dreams that could never be
Forbidden love, they'd not deny
For only they could see...

He carved their names upon the trunk
Of that great Sycamore
A promise underscored and marked
His eternal love for Eleanor...

This country torn by battle, strife
Thus called him into war
Concealed their marriage, man and wife
Beneath that Sycamore....

Summer turned to Winter
Then Spring, and turned once more
And just beyond the well worn path,
Returned no soldier, from the war....

There was no chanting song, nor sleep
Amongst the Sycamore
Beneath that carving, she does weep
His only love...fair Eleanor.

Jim 2010