The Ancient Oak

The old oak tree stood alone Shivering, shaking, stripped to the bone Leaves all gone with the autumn air Winds had blown, left him bare. Men had come in the early morn Talk of old wood, new wood to be born Came with their axe came with their saw Strong rubber boots and bright jackets they wore. All around him decimation occurred The oak tree, stayed silent, not saying a word. They came to him at the end of the day Needed to fell him to earn their pay They sweated and toiled but try as they might The old tree was blessed, by an ancient rite. As darkness fell they laid down their tools Wise of the ways, the men were no fools Stood back in respect and bowed to the tree Put on their jackets, went home for their tea.