The Watching Tree

My father called it the Watching Tree

For it turned, and swivelled to see,

He’d planted its seed in the winter weather

On top of the grave of Annabelle Feather

Who killed her mother for why, whatever,

Then hung from a hawthorn tree.

The hangman never would cut her free

While she spun and spiralled around,

Her eyes a-bulge on the village gallows

In front of the church they call All Hallows,

While urchins jeered to toast marshmallows

As Annabelle stared at the ground.

My aunts in pinafores hung on her feet

To stretch her neck with the rope,

Her tongue stuck out at least six inches

A rigid perch for the garden finches

Who pop the eyes of the ones they lynches,

Once they’ve given up hope.

They laid her down in an open grave

The rope wound tight at her throat,

Planted the seeds of the tree above her

Just to remind of the murdered mother

So people be kinder to one another,

Or that’s what my father wrote.

The roots of the tree bored into the skull

Of Annabelle, in through her eyes,

Tendrils of thoughts were left forever

Deep in the well of Annabelle Feather

And sent from her eyes to the tree, whatever,

A poisoner never dies.

So still I call it the Watching Tree

For it waits till I’m not around,

Dropping its poisonous leaves whenever

It’s cold and bleak in the winter weather,

As black as the heart of Annabelle Feather

Stone cold, and dead in the ground.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Barbz]

Tho changed a bit in Rhyme and Reason, it maintains the excellent dark, chilling excitement that we can always expect of you. Just imagine the seeds of a tree being planted above the grave of Annabelle Feather, hung and buried for killing her mother, the roots growing through her skull into her evil eyes, turning it into a seeing eye tree....Chilling!! Barbz.......P.S. Marie would be right on this, R.I.P.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very amazing tale. You create place of mystery and place of history. I liked the use of Annabelle Feather. I wanted to know and read more. Thank you David for sharing the amazing tale.
Coyote

[Tony Jordan]

Where her remains had the chance to make the difference and be good for her souls sake and fertilise the tree, they couldn't. She was too far filled with the dark energies so the poor tree got Annabellised. No wonder it seems eerie.
The graphic nature of the descriptions of the decaying woman worked so well here DLP.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A suspenseful thriller...kept me on the edge of my seat...

[andrew mitchell]

A lovely macabre write david through and through! :)

[Lady Lola]

Your poems are so well crafted, have the loveliest flow and evoke so many emotions from pure joy to utter terror. You're a true master of the craft!
Sometimes I just don't know how to comment on them, because I feel like I'm repeating myself. All I can say is: "How very beautiful", "Incredibly well done", "How thought-inducing" and I feel like I'm not doing your work enough justice by my meagre comment. That is why I don't always comment on your delightful poems; not because they're not good enough, not because I don't appreciate them, but because I feel like I can't even put into words how much I like them. And I want you to know, David, that I love each and every one of your poems. I will comment more from now on, so you feel more appreciated as an artist.

[R Smith]

nice change to the rhyming pattern David that held together really well, a sinister tale indeed, the folks round that part are mighty mean even though she was a murderer they gave her dead body some rough treatment, this has the ring of some old English folk songs I used to listen to from the likes of Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick, happy days although somewhat violent tales they told :)

[TL Boehm]

Wow. this one has a wonderful somber chill to it like the coming autumn - formidable and ominous. Well penned and an interesting rhyme scheme as well.