Monday Morning Poetry on the Way to Work

:: Should I put these in one thread to save space, or would you all just like me to stop all together? Some of these can be quite bad. ::



When I was cold from wind and snow
And ice and hail and sleet
The sapling yew beside my house
Would wrap me in its leaves

When I was hot from sun and earth
And waves of summer wrath
The blooming oak beside the yew
Would shield me from the heat

When I had not a friend in sight
Alone among the grass
The nest of birds would chirp and sing
And keep me company

But now when I return and touch
The grand old ancient yew
It cut me with its thorny bough
And drew a flow of blood

But now when I return and feel
The wilted dying oak
I closed my eyes and shed my tears
That stained the cracking bark

But now when I return and call
The nest without a life
The only song that answered me
The echo of my cry