The Oak Tree Spreading Poem by Heath Gunn

I ventured to a clearing,
I sat under a tree.
Stretching, reaching, spreading,
to the yonder above me.
The early springtime splendour,
of it's newly budding leaves.
Opening, curling, spreading,
they reach out in the breeze.
A broad and thick, and handsome trunk,
supports the mighty branches.
Arching, spanning, spreading,
as if like medieval lances.
The beauty stood before me,
is an awe inspiring sight.
Growing, sprawling, spreading,
shade and shadows, tricks of light.
And if i think back clearly,
when i disappear inside,
I see the oak tree spreading,
through my memories minds eye.

Heath Gunn