Under The Oak Old Tree


When I was bold and young and free
And life was in its infancy,
To the hills over yonder
I’d play and wander
And rest weary…Under the old oak tree.

When I reached the age of frivolity,
A restless spirit dwelt in me.
To the hills over yonder,
I went to ponder
And found wisdom…Under the old oak tree.

When I reached the age of maturity
Life’s troubles came endlessly;
To the hills over yonder
I went to surrender
But found solace…Under the old oak tree.

Now I’m no longer young and free
And life’s end I clearly see
To the hills over yonder
Once more I’ll wander
To lie content…Under the old oak tree.

great

Beautifully crafted Anwaar!

Those oak roots, sure run deep! ;-)

Good one Anwaar.

Les

Somewhere between your birthday and 31 July 2012, you became a poet, and displayed that talent hereupin.
Wonderful.