Young Love - Old Oak Poem by John Knight

When you were twelve in 1946 you did what all boys do
Fishing in streams and collecting conkers
Riding madly on unsafe bicycles
Bonfire noight - hoping for Fire Engine
Impatient for Winter - Snowballs & Snowmen!
When you are twelve boys do NOT fall in love.
But unexpectenly it happens - Collette was different.
Dark - sexy and with her so so French accent.

What was a French Girl doing in Oldham
So soon after the War? Her father was a designer
In the Textile Factory - so he brought Collette with him.
I was doomed - Collette sat next to on her first day.
Somehow her fragrance was not that of a Girl.
It was the 'Scent of a Woman' - I was smitten!
When she held my hand that too was different.
Different from Alice and-Mary and Jean.
When she squeezed my hand it electrified..........
My whole body - Instinctively I knew this must be LOVE! ! !

We kissed (a la francaise de rigeur!)
We cuddled and went as far as preteens went..............
In 1946 - which was not really very far!
After two years of 'Puppy Love' Collette anounced
'Nous retournons a Paris la semaine prochaine'
Toute siute - We knew we must do something.....
Very special and very personal before it was too late!
So we planted two acorns as tokens of our love.
We planted them too close - so they grew as one.
Their trunks interlocked as they grew taller each year.

I never forgot Collette - but she dissapeared for ever.
While our love died the entwined oaks flourished.
First two interlocked saplings then a fine oak tree.
It is over sixty years since Collette faded from my life
But the memories of her remain locked in my heart.
Her scent - her touch - her softness - her voice
Her hair - her eyes - her lips - her special kissing
And all the other 'French' things she taught me each day..

'Our Oak Trees' remember with me - They remember
The seasons - The cold bitterness of Winter - when we
Walked together as one - cuddled against the cold.
The joy of our innocent love stirring with the singing birds
And budding trees that healded the beauty of Spring.
The two long hot Summers - Collette and I so enjoyed together
The many Summers since when our tree grew taller each day.
The Autumn when the leaves of our oaks turned yellow -
Orange - brown and then gently fell with each fresh breeze.

It tipifies that autumn in 1948 when we said 'au revoir'
Which turned out to be 'adieu' and - for me - ushered in....
A Winter of silence - sorrow and sentence of remorse.
Of course - Life had to go on. I married and had Children
And today I have eight Grandchildren.one of whom
Is called Collette because my daughter married a Frenchman!
I still see 'Our Oaks' which most people think is one tree
I see them season by season across the field from the house
Of my parents - which I still occupy - a daily reminder.
I watch them and wonder - what might have been!