Monday, January 11, 2010
Old man of the woods
The old man of the woods reached his frothy arms way high to the sky
They say I am a white oak, but at my age I feel more like gray
He stretched so high above the highest competitor of the canopy
And halfway down, illuminated greenery surrounded his pealing fray
When I grew up, there was a small lane, called Twin Oaks Lane.
Twas a very secluded lane rarely traveled
of course I used to ride my bicycle there whenever I could
Certain parts of the hilly lane were lined with Pennsylvania mountain
laurel, way up on the steeply inclined ridges on the left
On the right was a beautiful little stream stretching off into the
deep dark woods. So many birds and so much fauna and flora
climbed over my head and around my way -- the sights and sounds
brought secluded joy to my young heart.
Twin Oaks Lane led to a park, beyond tree lined meandering section,
just adjacent to a field, a farm, a different habitat.
The park was a wondrous destination, a place to ride to, a place to
stop and hike and see the various sights. One section was covered
with a whole set of pine trees, I'm told were planted in the 1930's.
Eventually, when I was just this youngster yet, but beyond the teen
age years, by a single year, I met another, who's heart was enthralled
by nature. But that is a whole other story.
My glorious white oak tree, I've seen you yet again.
Stand ever so tall for me, don't abandon me.
I'm a member of this organization, also on the board.
We are trying to acquire the land where this particular white oak tree stands.
I took a stroll in these lovely woods. And this photo is my keepsake.