Claudia's Tree

A summer storm blew down an oak in Claudia’s yard yesterday

It’s odd but the mere thought of that has caused me some dismay.

Joyce Kilmer understood the tree. He wrote about it in a verse.

And If I may, my own two cents I’d like now to disperse.

I loved to climb trees when I was young and the trees didn’t care at all.

In fact, somewhere in my heart I knew the trees wouldn’t let me fall.

High through the skeleton I’d climb until I swayed upon the breeze

I was a pirate in the crows nest in a ship upon the seas.

When I played hide and seek or war my stately tree didn’t mind

If I used him as a decoy or a place to hide behind.

Even in my love life trees played an important part

They allowed me to carve in my initials...and those of my sweetheart. 

When the climbing stopped and the games abated with the passing of the seasons

I continued to enjoy the trees albeit for different reasons

Trees weather almost any storm and still stand strong and tall

And is there anything more beautiful than a tree dressed up for Fall?

They go to sleep in winter when the wind through them does sing

But they comeback with a passion to bloom again in Spring?

They furnish us with lumber to construct our simple nests

And provide us with a shady spot to stop and take a rest. 

In many ways wouldn’t it’d be grand if everyone could be

More welcoming, and giving...just like our friend the tree.

Perhaps it is the fact they give without making any demands

That makes me sad for Claudia now that her oak no longer stands.

Poems are made by fools, he said, but only God can make a tree.

And after reading this I’m sure with Mr. Kilmer you’d agree...