The ancient oak stood strong
centred in the grove of saplings
her young, from her acorns
once seeds of a union so intense
it is still whispered on the wind.
Weathered bark peeled away
with each passing year leaving
her body, her mighty limbs
torn twigs, shredded leaves falling
before the season said change.
Axes struck sharp and hard
shattering the forest calm while
creatures paused in silent reverence
as The Green Man gathered acorns
sustaining their secret of eternal life.
My contribution to The Gooseberry Garden: Stories from Mythology, Culture and of life
Very nice write! The mighty oak lives on.
ReplyDeletehttp://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/09/25/one-she-beckons-me-come-2/
"Once seeds of a union so intense, it is still whispered on the wind." Lovely and powerful poem!
ReplyDeleteNice piece...Such beauty and strength in your poem...
ReplyDeleteplayful story.
ReplyDeletelove the imagery your words created,
green man gathered acorns sustaining their secret of eternal life.
vivid and beautiful lines.
The great oak will never cease to be Charles, thank you !
ReplyDeleteDiva, my favourite line as well
ReplyDeleteSusie, thank you. Nature sustains us, especially me.
ReplyDeleteGood Morning Morning, merci. If one sits in the woods long enough the spirits permeate your soul :)
ReplyDeletePerfect! I love it. You are an inspiration!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much Jenn, my inspiration is the beauty around us.
ReplyDelete