Dark clouds scurrying across the sad sky,
Rushing together,to be darker still.
Bonded in blackness,to start a big storm.
A message od doom! Then,the raindropsfell.
Pulling off the road, I stopped the car,
Staring in horror at the place you should be,
Refusing to believe you were not there.
My beautiful cup and saucer tree- gone.
Not troubled by cascades of cold lashing rain,
I stood and looked at your mutilated stump
And then, in the field,the dark circle of ash-
All that was left of your funeral pyre.
What demented axeman had cut you down?
How,if not by a madman,could this be done?
Not for fuel to warm a family,
For there were fallen trees,and timber in plenty.
In despair,I stood in the storm-
Tears, raindrops.Raindrops,tears,
No matter which fell from nose to chin,
My guardian,my castle,my tower now at rest.
Why wasn't I there to guard or defend you?
To offer you succour,as you always offered me?
I was far away in a continental war.
I should have known,I should have felt your distress.
They say you had some terrible disease,
Amputation the cure the tree doctor said,
Not specifying which.Do trees contact cancer?
Whatever it was,I will not accept it!
For most of my life you were alive,
You were real- now only to me!
You were,you are, still in my mind,
Anmd will remain there always until I die.
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