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 ramblings and things


My old tree is still there.
I spent hours afloat,
Its branches the decks
Of my imaginary boat;

Or my prairie schooner, way our west,
Wending surely across endless plains
The best covered wagon ever there was,
Centre and hub of that slow wagon train.

Later on
My ticket to space
Pioneering on in the
Discovery race.

I sat under her shade
For first fumbling kisses
A gathering place then
For young men and misses.

My old favourite tree
Where I'd sit all alone
In those special times when
It's best all on your own

She's not quite as big,
Not nearly as tall,
As I seem to remember,
Not magnificent at all;

But she is still there,
My old special friend,
And I needed to see her
This nearer life's end.

And I'm sure she remembered,
Her branches sighing in greeting,
And I promised us both not to be
So long again to our next meeting

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