The old tree stump connected to me,
from far across the way.
Spoke of years and memories,
so needing to have its say.
A face looked out across at me,
spoke right into my mind.
Of tales of great adventure,
in those years so left behind.
Old witches making poison,
mother nature at her best.
Lovers passion underneath,
winds blowing from the west.
Nesting of many wild animals,
the slaughter of those weaker.
Poachers hiding in the trees,
avoiding angry gamekeepers.
Promises made beneath its leaves,
many broken there too.
Climbing high in the tree so tall,
children swinging their too.
Now it’s chopped and left for dead,
on a piece of open ground.
Screaming out loud to the universe,
until my mind it found.
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