The Whispering Tree Poem by David Lewis Paget

I knew that I shouldn't be driving,
I'd had one more for the road,
So Jean and me were half cut, you see,
Were carrying quite a load.
We'd tried the Tequila slammers,
I'd even swallowed the worm,
I wish to hell I had lost the key
Then we'd both be home, and warm.

The road was most uninviting,
Was glistening in the dark,
We climbed on into the Beamer,
And headed out of the park.
The rain was a constant drizzle
As the Moon peeked over the trees,
I know that I should have listened
When Jean would entreat me, ‘Please! '

She always said that I drove too fast
And she was probably right,
I slammed my foot down flat to the boards
And sped away through the night.
The headlights cut a swathe through the trees
And lit the road in an arc,
I thought that we were invincible,
Speeding home in the dark.

It must have been a tyre that blew,
The Beamer suddenly veered,
The car careened off the road, it seemed,
No matter how I had steered.
It seemed to leap at a grove of trees
And hit the oak at a lean,
I was safe with my seatbelt on,
But Jean had flown through the screen.

She'd been sat quietly, holding my hand,
Her warmth was all that I felt,
She'd whispered softly her words of love,
Forgotten to put on her belt.
Now she lay spread on the bonnet there
Her head crushed into the tree,
I hoped and prayed, but I didn't dare
Step out of the wreck, to see.

And then I heard her whispering words
Float back through the shattered screen,
‘If only you had listened to me…'
I said, ‘I know what you mean.'
‘You know our love was a special love, '
She seemed to whisper afar,
‘Just know my love will always be there,
I'll beam it down from a star.'

My life is cold, and empty as well,
Since ever my love was lost,
I carry around my private hell
In a heart that is tempest tossed.
For now I know that I have no choice
When it all comes back to me,
If ever I need to hear her voice
I go to the whispering tree.

11 September 2017