Majestic Oaks, your crooked limbs o’shadow me,

From the expanse of red autumnal sky,

Shading me from the reasons

How come, I sit, pondering the why.

Why, ‘cause I’m a poet, least I think I am,

Writing lines, that transports 

Both myself and my readers,

From reality to dreamful thoughts.

And yet the loftiness of these trees,

Overwhelms my imagination to describe,

The complexity of life, bound

Within the aged and wrinkled hide,

Above, the vastness of the sky,

More immense than we can comprehend,

I cannot convey in writing, nor give justice

Concerning its glory to you, my friend.

Dear reader, I apologise for my shortcomings,

You do surprise me though, that you read

Someone else’s oneness with nature,

And follow another man’s lead.

Don’t waste your time on shared experience,

What you need is that personal approach,

Walk in the beauties of the world around you

Be in the company of the sky and Oaks