That Old Horse Chestnut Tree
I am a giant of the community
Rooted, a safe haven
I’ve watched, my leaves gently rustling
As christenings gather, old and young
My canopy sheltering many
As raindrops fall
A tapestry of life in the chapel grounds
Brides’ faces full of joy, as they say “I do!”
Under my strong, stretched out branches
Vows are spoken and two become one
Those who mourn gather beneath me
Heads bowed in quiet reflection
On a summer’s day the soft sounds of hymns
Float out the chapel door, drifting away
As night falls I offer a sanctuary
As foxes silently cross my path
In spring I burst into delicate white flowers
But my real treasures are brown and small
Encased by spikes, lie my jewels within
I hear the children’s voices rise up with glee
They gather up my conkers
Running wildly, arms full of brown treasure
Generations have passed my gaze
Some amble past, barely noticing me
If I could speak of the tales I’ve seen
All life has unfolded beneath my leaves
Joanne C Hicks Pembrokeshire Poet copyright ©️
3rd May 2026
No comments:
Post a Comment