The Tree Is Wise And Old Poem by Joseph D E Phillips

The tree is wise and old.
Its leaves are rustling softly.
A voice is weeping awfully,
why have you grown so cold?

The branches strong and bold,
their patterns carved so neatly.
I whisper oh so sweetly,
why have you grown so cold?

The earth is soft to hold.
Its sand runs through my fingers.
The scent of lilac lingers.
Why have you grown so cold?

There are stories yet untold.
The pages must unfold.
Why have you grown so cold?
Why have you grown so cold?