Oak Tree Poem by james watkin

Oak Tree



Pride of the earth; hoisted
For what of it upheaves
Beneath, loamy and moisted.
Scaly grey; but ageless.

Famed might. And is there heard
Nothing of what bereaves
Therein under. Least conferred
Of bough-snapped windiness!

Monday, May 9, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: tree
COMMENTS OF THE POEM

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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