PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Next to the path stands an old tree. How long the tree has stood there braving the winter snows and the sudden storms that seemed to come out of nowhere, No one knows. I myself became aware of the tree when this little old lady stepped from behind it and greeted me. You do not know me but I know you. Mr. Shaw is it not? Yes Madam I am known as Shaw, Bernard Shaw my full name and no I am no relation to the George Bernard Shaw. Although, mind you I would like a little of his hard earned cash. I am afraid I cannot help you there but I can and will tell you your future.

Now the little old lady had my full attention, I am a sucker for people that say they can tell me my future. I asked now do I have to cross your palm with a piece of silver? No young man I will have none of that nonsense. I am a real fortune teller. I need no silver or glass balls non of that rubbish. Now see if you can look me in the eyes. Try as much as I could I just could not look her straight in the eyes. Take your glasses off and have another try young man. I must admit her calling me a young man caught my fancy me I will be eighty six on my next birthday. I took off my glasses and tried once again to look the little old lady deep into her eyes. This time I managed to take a grip on myself. Her eyes were magnetish. I gave myself a small hug. I had somehow managed to see not into her eyes but with her eyes. What I saw was not very impressive. An old man with a balding grey head of hair deep wrinkles in my face. In fact I must admit the years have crept up on me. The tree caught my fancy and I watched it grow from a small strip of a tree into this large old oak tree. I saw what happened to the tree on a daily basis men, dogs and other small animals used the oak tree as a urinal, every day year in year out it is a wonder that the tree managed to survive. Then I saw the old man again. With a start I recognised myself. You are still that small boy that I remember, I was at both your Mother's funeral and at your father's. You still do not know me do you now. I had to admit I did not know this little old lady try as hard as I could I did not know her.

I will now let you into a little secret, I am your Fairy Godmother sent down to watch over you. To make sure that no real harm came to you. Do you remember that ship that took you from the Pier at Chatham across to Sheerness. The ship gave a lurch and you bless you fell down the stairs, I was the lady that gave you a sniff of smelling salts then a sweet that you did not like and threw it over the side of the ship when you thought that I was no more looking. It all fell back into place, yes I did have that fall down the flight of steps when the ship took me and the other boys from the orphanage across to Sheerness. This little old lady must be at least over a hundred years of age if she could remember that incident all of that long time ago. Then I was back in my own body looking into the eyes of this little old lady that told me she was my Fairy Godmother. Suddenly I was alone no little old lady just the tree and myself. I went home and took wood and wire netting and built a guard around that old oak tree. At least the tree shall no longer suffer from all of that daily urine. Ads for the little old lady, it will not be long before I meet with her in that place where we all wish to go to when our time arives. I have written this down for you all to know there are such people as Godmothers, most people call them Angels and why not say I your scribbler Bern.