The Old Walnut Tree

The blackened burl of charred remains –
stands the gnarl of great walnut tree.
Stretching his arms into the blue –
as though his very life to plead.

Covered with scars his shadow falls
upon the  body of me.
Here I lay with broken dolls
of all our childhood dreams.

And so I thought a lifetime ago,
whispering, whittling, wond’ring why…
Should a tree of such earthen beauty
Ever reach the sky?

Tis not mine, Dear Walnut,
not mine to see.
But only to share my time
with thee..

So I have weathered this storm
to touch your olden scars,
To feel initials so weatherly worn,
before I chase the stars.

For once a boy envisioned thee,
taking refuge in your leaves.
Carving names of lovers seen
I thoroughly believe –

That soon my legs and arms will climb
upon your mountainous breadth
and we will remember all the times
o’er the years you and I have wept.

© 2014 John Allen Richter

About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

5 responses to “The Old Walnut Tree

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