From Humble Acorns Grow My OaksA Poem by Chris Shaw
Concealed within our garden beds
a squirrel hides an acorn store to gnaw upon when winter bites. Protracted nights bring shorter days yet hoards stay buried 'neath the ground. The sound of song birds stir in spring when hardened earth thaws tardily, the larder long forgotten now sprouts forth with signs of early green, as through the loam new growth is seen. Three sapling oaks are in full view as overhead the sky turns blue to herald seasons changing mood. Each one replanted tenderly as leaves appear on slender stems. Why would you know the reasons why my kin, my dearest, dearest three? Remember my affinity, my love affair with nature's trees, for you a future legacy. I grow these oaks for love of you.
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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11 Reviews Added on September 13, 2018 Last Updated on September 13, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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